Jnckson   Square,   Now   Orleans,   formerly  the   Place  crArmt";. 


The  Creoles 


OF 


Louisiana 


BY 


George    W.    Cable 

Author  of  "  Old  Creolf  Piiys,"  "The  Craudisuiue!:,"  '' Mudautf  /'.//////.,," 

"  Dr.  Sevii-r;'  ft, . 


NEW   YORK 
CHARLES    SCRIBNER'S    SONS 

18S4 


CorvRiGHT,  1884,  nv 
CHARLKS    SCKIIiNKk'S   SONS 


3(J5929 


TROWS 
ifllNTmO  AND  BOOKBINDING  COMPANy, 


CONTENTS. 


I. — Who  auk  t!!k  C!i{K»)Li:sy     .... 

II.— FllENtH    For.NUEH.x, 

III.— TiiK  Ckkoi.ks'  City,     .        .  ,        . 

IV.— AFHK  AN    Sl.AVKS   ANU   IXDI  iN    WaI{S, 

V. — Tin;  Nkw  Gknkhation,       .... 

VI.— The  Fikst  Cukoi.es, 

VII.— PuAYiNd  TO  TIIK  Kino,        .... 
VIII.— Ui.i.oA,  AiHUY,  Axn  THE  Sri'EKiou  CorxciL, 

IX.— The  iNsuKUErrioN, 

X.— The  Price  of  Halk-convictions, 
XL— CoiNT  O'Reim.y  and  Si'AxiisH  Law.s, 
XII.— Spanish  Conciliation,        .... 
XIII.— The  Amehican  Revolition  on  the  Gulf  Side, 

XIV.— Spanish  New  Oui.eans 

XV.— How  Bohe  made  Sicjar,     .... 

XVI.— The  Creoles  SiN(i  the  Marseillaise,     . 

XVII.— The  Americans 


1 

i: 

•  I-*- 
•># 

41 
rt2 

57 
04 
i\H 
72 

Hi) 
M.") 

04 

KIS 
114 

118 


vi 


CONTKXTS. 


PAOK 

XVIII.— Spain  acainst  Fatk, 133 

XIX.— New  Ouleanh  Soi.cuit— Louisiana  Bouoht,  .        .  130 
XX.— New  Oui.eanh  in  180;{, 135 

XXL  — FllOM    SllWKCTS  TO   CiTIZKNH, 141 

XXIL— BruK's  CoxHi'iuAc  Y, 147 

XXIIL— The  West  Indian  Cousin, 156 

XXIV.— The  Pirates  of  Bakatakia, 161 

XXV.— Bauatauia  Destuovei), 172 

XXVI. —The  Bkitisii  Invasion, 186 

XXVIL— The  Battle  ok  New  Orleans,      .        .        .        .189 

XXVIIL— The  End  of  the  Pirates, 203 

XXIX.— FAUBouim  Ste.  Marie, 210 

XXX.— A  Hundred  Thousand  People,      ....  217 

XXXL— Flush  Times, 227 

XXXIL— Why  not  Bigger  than  London 240 

XXXIII.— The  School-master, 256 

XXXIV.— Later  Days, 261 

XXXV.— Inundations 266 

XXXVI.— Sauve'8  Crevasse, 276 

XXXVII.— The  Days  of  Pestilence, 284 

XXXVIIL— The  Great  Epidemic, 291 

XXXIX.— Brighter  Skies, 303 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


PAGE 


Jackson    StiiAUR,    New    Ouleanb,    kohmehly    the    Place 

d'Akmes,  .         .  /T      ^      . 

'  •        rroHtispiece 

Map  ok  Louisiana,      ...  z,.    . 

' racing  p.       \ 

Bienville, 

•        •        •     1 1 

Plan  ok  City,  kiiowino  Buildings,  .        .  .r 

Old  Uksulixe  Convent, q. 

In  the  New  Convent  Garden,         .        .  .,. 

Old  Villa  on  Bayou  St.  John.         .  .„ 

Old  Canal  kormerly  in  Dauphine  Street,   ...  47 
"Cruel  O'Reilly."    (From  a  miniature  in  possession  of  Hon. 

Charles  Gayarre,  of  Louisiana.  \        .  ^r 

'  •         •         •         .      <o 

Old  Cabildo  as  built  by  Almonaster,  1794,  and  corner  op 

''"^P^-^^^' 97 

"  Gratinos,  balconies,  and  lime-washed  stucco,"       .        .  101 

The  "Old  Basin," ^^^ 

Etienne  de  Bore, ... 

In  the  Cabildo, ... 

A  Royal  Street  Corner, jj~ 


Vlll  LIST   OF    ILLl  STHATIONS. 

lllK    AlAHKlNY    IlOfSK,     WIIKUK     LolIS    PlIILIPrK    STOri'KI)     IN 

ITUH, 1^7 

Al  TOCHAIMIS   KUOM    THK    AUCIII VKS, DU 

Tkansom  in  tiik  I'ontamja  HriLDiNds,  Jackson  Si^t  auk,       .  140 

WiM.IAM    ClIAULKS    COI.K    Cl.AllJOKNK,     GoVKUNOH     OK    LolISI- 

ana  kkom  1H(>:1  lo  imk;, 140 

IlKv.  Fatiikk  Antonio  ok  Ski)i:i,i,a  (Pkuk  Antoink),      .         .   145 
In  RiK  1)1!  Maine, l.-)}) 

BAHATAKIAN    LrOJiRIlS   at  tiik    FiUIT   LAXUINii,  .  .    ^H'i 

Jackson's  HKAiKiiAinKKs, 1«)5 

PACKKNIIAM'S   HKAIXilAUTRUS    (KKOM    TIIK    KKAU),  .  .    15>7 

Tiik  Battlk-Guoino, ^Ol 

Old  Spanish  Cottaoe  in  Royal  Stiikkt,  S(  knk  ok  Andukw 
Jackson's  Tui.y., 204 

TOMII  OK   GOVKKNOK  ClAIHOHXK's   FAMILY,  ....    20« 

Old  Bouhsk  and  St.  Loims  Hotkl.     (Aktekwahd  the  Statk 
House.), 00, 

The  Picayune  Tikh, 00,5 

A  Cotton  Puess  and  Yard, 2.2!) 

Entkanck  to  a  Cotton  Yaud, '):{;5 

Tiik  Old  Bank  in  Toulouse  Street, 2JV7 

AMON<i  THE  Markets, 04;} 

ExciiANOE  Alley,     (Old  Passage  de  la  Bourse.)    Looking 
toward  the  American  Quarter, 247 

Old  Passage  de  la  Bourse.    Looking  toward  the  French 
Quarter, 350 


LIST   OK    ILLISTUAI  IONS. 


IX 


HkHIM)  TIIK   OM)   rUKNC  II    M.VUKKT,     .... 

A  CiiKVAssK.    (Stouy's  Plantation,  IHS'2.), 

In    TIIK   QlAIHJOON    yiAKTKH, 

.\  Fri.l-  lllVKU.       (LoWKll  KIIONT  COKNKIl  «»K  TIIK  0|,|)  ToW 

A  Ckmktkky  Walk.     (Tombs  ani>  "Ovkns."),  . 

TlIK  Oi,i>  Cai.aijoza, 

An  iNNKIt  CoIKT — Roy  A  I-  Stukkt,        .... 
Old  Si'AMSii  Gateway  and  Staih  in  thk  IJaiiii-oo, 


N.l, 


l'A(iK 


:n4 


MAP  OF  LOUISIAXA, 

Showin..  1.t.  th<.  oountry  of  the  French-.sp.akin,  populations.  l,oun,l.,l  on  tlu>  oa.t  bv  the 

n.m  iin.  ^    .  „,l.  ,,1.  ,i,,  h^,,,,,  .p.,^,,^  ^^„,,,j,,^  so.itla.ast.rlv  tl.n  „d,  this  ...uion    and  ,Uv,7 
a.lj.ufnf   to  til,.  MississipjM,  tlie  home  of  tlie  Treulfs.  ^ 


THE  CREOLES  OF   LOUISIANA. 


I. 

WHO  ARE  THE  CREOLES? 

QXE  city  in  the  United  States  is,  witliout  pretension 
or  intention,  picturesque  and  antique.  A  (luaint 
Southern-European  aspect  is  encountered  in  tiie  nan-ow 
streets  of  its  early  boundaries,  on  its  old  Place  d'Arnies, 
along  its  balconied  fa9ades,  and  about  its  cool,  flowery 
inner  courts. 

Among  the  great  confederation  of  States  whose  Anglo- 
Saxon  life  and  inspiration  swallows  up  all  alien  immigra- 
tions, there  is  one  in  which  a  Latin  civilization,  sinewy, 
valiant,  cultured,  rich,  and  proud,  holds  out  against  extinc- 
tion. There  is  a  people  in  the  midst  of  the  popuhition  of 
Louisiana,  who  send  representatives  and  senators  to  the 
Federal  Congress,  and  who  vote  for  the  nation's  rulers. 
They  celebrate  the  Fourth  of  July ;   and  ten  days  later, 

with  far  greater  enthusiasm,  they  commemorate  that  -reat 

1  '^ 


2  THE  CKKOLES   OF   LOUISIAXA. 

Fourteenth  that  saw  the  fall  of  the  Bastile.  Other  citi- 
zens of  tlie  United  States,  but  not  themselves,  thev  call 
Americans. 

Who  are  they  ?     Where  do  they  live  i 

Take  the  map  of  l^ouisiana.  Draw  a  line  from  the 
southwestern  to  the  northeastern  corner  of  the  State ;  let 
it  turn  thence  down  the  Mississippi  to  the  little  river-side 
town  of  Baton  llouge,  the  State's  seat  of  government; 
there  draw  it  eastward  through  lakes  Maurepas,  Pontchar- 
train,  and  Borgne,  to  the  Gulf  of  Mexico;  thence  pass 
along  the  Gulf  coast  back  to  the  starting-point  at  the  mouth 
of  the  Sabine,  and  you  will  have  compassed  rudely,  but 
accurately  enough,  the  State's  eighteen  thousand  seven 
hundred  and  fifty  square  miles  of  delta  lands. 

About  half  the  State  lies  outside  these  bounds  and  is 
more  or  less  hilly.  Its  population  is  mainly  an  Anglo- 
American  moneyed  and  landed  class,  and  the  blacks  and 
mulattoes  who  were  once  its  slaves.  The  same  is  true  of 
the  population  in  that  part  of  the  delta  lands  north  of 
Red  River.     The  Creoles  are  not  there. 

Across  the  southern  end  of  the  State,  from  Sabine 
Lake  to  Chandeleur  Bay,  with  a  north-and-south  width  of 
from  ten  to  thirty  miles  and  an  average  of  about  fifteen, 
stretch  the  Gulf  marshes,  the  wild  haunt  of  myriads  of 
birds  and  water-fowl,  serpents  and  saurians,  hares,  rac- 
coons, wild-cats,  deep-bellowing  frogs,  and  clouds  of  in- 
sects, and  by  a  f »  ^v  hunters  and  oystermen,  whose  solitary 
and  rarely  frequented  huts  speck  the  wide,  green  horizon 


AVllo   ai:k  THK  ('UKnjj;s  ^  [^ 

at  rcDiote  intervals,      ^^eitlier  is  tlie  Iiome  of  tlic  Creoles 
to  be  found  here. 

Xorth  of  tlK  >e  marslies  anl  within  the  bounds  already 
set  lie  still  two  other  sorts  of  delta  country.  In  these 
dwell  most  of  the  rv-nch-speakini,^  people  of  Louisiana, 
both  white  and  colored.  Here  the  names  of  bayous, 
lakes,  villages,  and  plantations  are,  for  the  most  part, 
French  ;  the  parishes  (counties)  are  named  after  saints  and 
church-feasts,  and  although  for  more  than  half  a  centurv 
there  has  been  a  strong  inflow  of  Anglo-Americans  and 
English-speaking  blacks,  the  youth  still  receive  their  edu- 
cation principally  from  the  priests  and  mms  of  small 
colleges  and  convents,  and  two  languages  are  current :  in 
law  and  trade,  English  ;  in  the  sanctuary  and  at  home, 
French. 

These  two  sorts  of  delta  country  are  divided  by  the 
Dayou  Teche.  AVest  of  this  stream  lies  a  beautiful  ex- 
panse of  faintly  undulating  prairie,  some  thirty-nine  hun- 
<lred  square  miles  in  extent,  dotted  with  artificial  home- 
stead groves,  with  fields  of  sugar-cane,  cotton,  and  corn, 
and  with  herds  of  ponies  and  keen-horned  cattle  feeding 
on  its  short,  nutritious  turf.  Their  lierdsmen  speak  an 
ancient  French  patois,  and  have  the  blue  eyes  and  light 
brown  hair  of  Northern  France. 

But  not  yet  have  we  found  the  Creoles.  The  Creoles 
smile,  and  sometimes  even  frown  at  these ;  these  are  the 
children  of  those  famed  Xova  Scotian  exiles  whose  ban- 
ishment from  their  homes  by  British  arms  in  1755  has  so 


4  THE   CKEOLES   OF  LOUISIANA. 

often  been  celebrated  in  romance ;  tlicy  still  bear  the  name 
of  Acadians.  They  are  found  not  only  on  this  western 
side  of  the  Teehe,  but  in  all  this  French-speaking  region 
of  Louisiana.  But  these  vast  prairies  of  Attakapas  and 
Opelousas  are  peculiarly  theirs,  and  here  they  largely  out- 
numl)er  that  haughtier  Louisianian  who  endeavors  to 
withhold  as  well  from  him  as  from  the  "  American  "  the 
proud  appellation  of  Creole. 

Thus  we  have  drawn  in  the  linos  upon  a  region  lying 
between  the  mouth  of  Red  liiver  on  the  north  and  the 
Gulf  marshes  on  the  south,  east  of  the  Tcclie  and  south  of 
Lakes  Borgno,  Pontchartrain,  and  Maurepas,  and  the 
Bayou  Manchac.  However  he  may  be  found  elsewhere, 
this  is  the  home,  the  realm,  of  the  Louisiana  Creole. 

It  is  a  region  of  incessant  and  curious  paradoxes.  The 
feature,  elsewhere  so  nearly  universal,  of  streams  rising 
from  elevated  sources,  growing  by  tributary  inflow,  and 
moving  on  to  empty  into  larger  water-courses,  is  entirely 
absent.  The  circuit  of  inland  water  supply,  to  which  our 
observation  is  accustomed  elsewhere — commencing  with 
evaporation  from  remote  watery  expanses,  and  ending  with 
the  junction  of  streams  and  their  down-flow  to  the  sea — 
is  here  in  great  part  reversed  ;  it  begins,  instead,  with  the 
influx  of  streams  into  and  over  the  land,  and  though  it  in- 
cludes the  seaward  movement  in  the  channels  of  main 
streams,  yet  it  yields  up  no  small  part  of  its  volume  by  an 
enormous  evaporation  from  millions  of  acres  of  overflowed 
swamp.     It  is  not  in  the  general  rise  of  waters,  but  in 


WHO  AUE  tup:  ckeoles  ^  5 

their  subsidence,  tl.at  the  smaller  streams  deliver   their 
contents  toward  the  sea.     From  lied  liiver  to  the  Gulf 
the  early  explorers    >f  Louisiana  found  the  Mississippi, 
on    Its   western   side,    receiving   no   true   tributary;    but 
instead,  all  streams,  though  tending  toward  the  sea  yet 
^loing  so  by  a  course  directed  «..v.y  /,,„,  ,ome  larger  " 
channel.     Being  the  offspring  of  the  larger  strean.s,  and 
either  still  issuing  from  them  or  being  cut  off  from  them 
only  by  the  growth  of  sedimentary  deposits,  these  smaller 
bodies  were  seen  taking  their  course  obliquely  away  from 
the  greater,  along  the  natural  a(iueducts  raised  sh^htly 
above  the  general  level  by  the  deposit  of  their  own  allu- 
vion.    This  deposit,  therefore,  formed  the  bed  and  banks 
of  each  stream,  and  spread  outward  and  gently  downward 
on  each  side  of  it,  varying  in  width  from  a  mile  to  a  few 
yards,  in  proportion  to  the  size  of  the  stream  and  the  dis- 
tance from  its  mouth. 

Such  streams  called  for  a  new  generic  term,  and  these 
explorers,  generally  military  engineers,  named  them  bay- 
ous,   or  loi/aus:  in  fortification,  a  branch  trench      The 
Lafourche  ("the  fork,")  the  Bceuf,  and  other  bayous  were 
manifestly    mouths    of    the   Red    and    the  Mississippi 
gradually  grown  longer  and  longer  through  thousands  of 
years.     From  these  the  lesser  bayous  branched  off  con- 
fusedly hither  and  thither  on  their  reversed  watersheds 
"ot  tributaries,  but,  except  in  low  water,  tribute  takers' 
bearing  off  the  sediment-laden  back  waters  of  the  swollen' 
channels,  broad-casting  them  in  the  intervening  swamps 


8  THE   CHKOLES    OF    LOUISIANA. 

and,  as  the  time  of  subsidence  came  on,  returning  them, 
greatly  diminished  by  evaporation,  in  dark,  wood-stained, 
and  shiggish,  but  clear  streams.  The  whole  system 
was  one  ])rimarily  ot"  irrigation,  and  only  secondarily  of 
drainage. 

On  the  banks  of  this  innnense  fretwork  of  natural  dvkes 
and  sluices,  though  navigation  is  still  slow,  circuitous,  and 
impeded  with  risks,  now  lie  hundreds  of  miles  of  the 
richest  plantations  in  America ;  and  here  it  was  that  the 
French  colonists,  first  on  the  Mississippi  and  later  on  the 
great  bayous,  laid  the  foundations  of  the  State's  agricul- 
tural wealth. 

The  scenery  of  this  land,  where  it  is  still  in  its  wild 
state,  is  weird  and  funereal ;  but  on  the  banks  of  the  large 
bayous,  broad  fields  of  coi-n,  of  cotton,  of  cane,  and  of  rice, 
open  out  at  frequent  intervals  on  either  side  of  the  bayou, 
pushing  back  the  dark,  pall-like  curtain  of  moss-draped 
swamp,  and  presenting  to  the  passing  eye  the  neat  and 
often  imposing  residence  of  the  planter,  the  white  double 
row  of  field-hands'  cabins,  the  tall  red  chimney  and  broad 
gray  roof  of  the  sugar-house,  and  beside  it  the  huge, 
square,  red  brick  bagasse-burner,  into  which,  during  the 
grinding  season,  the  residuum  of  crushed  sugar-cane  passes 
unceasingly  day  and  night,  and  is  consumed  wuth  the 
smoke  and  glare  of  a  confiagration. 

Even  when  the  forests  close  in  upon  the  banks  of  the 
stream  there  is  a  wild  and  solemn  beauty  in  the  shifting 
scene   which   appeals   to   the   imagination    w-ith    special 


WHO   AKE  TlIK  CliEciI.ES  ;  .  j 

sti-cngtl.  wl.c,  the  cool  morning  lights  or  the  warn.or 
glows  oi  evening  impart  the  colors  of  the  atmosphere  t„ 
the  surrounding  wiklerness,  and  to  the  glassj  water,  of 
the  narrow  and   tortuous  bayous  that  n.ove  anion.,  iu 
shadows.    In  the  last  hour  of  day,  those  seeues  are  often 
■lliuninated  with  an   extraordinary  splendo,-.     Kron.  the 
boughs  of  the  dark,   hroad-sprea,li„g  live-oak,   and    the 
I.l.anton..like  anus  of  lofty  eypresses,  the  long,  n.otionless 
|.endauts  of  pale  gray  moss  point  down  to  their  inverted 
images  in  the  unruffled  waters   beneath  them,      .\othin.. 
breaks  the  wide-spread  silenee.     The  light  of  the  deelin! 
lug  sun  at  one  moment  brightens  the  tops  of  the  ev- 
presses,  at  another  glows  like  a  furnace  behind  their  black 
branches,  or,  as  the  voyager  reaches  a  western  turn  of  the 
bayou,  swings  slowly  round,  and  broadens  down  in  da,.- 
hng  crimsons  and  purples  upon  the  n.irror  of  the  streaui 
iNow  and    then,  fron,  out  son.e  l,a.y  shadow,  a  heron, 
wlute  or  bine,  takes  silent  flight,  an  alligator  crossin.  the 
stream  sends  out  long,  tinted  bars  of  widening  ripple  or 
on  some  high,  fire-blackened  tree  a  flock  of  roostinl  na- 
tures   silhouetted  on  the  sky,  linger  with    half-opcne.l 
unwlbng  wing,  and  flap  away  by  ones  an,l  twos  until  the 
tree  is   bare.      Shonld    the   traveller  descrv.   first   as    a 
.note  intensely  black   in  the  tnidst  of  the  brilliancy  that 
overspreads    the  water,   and   by-and-by  revealing   itself 
>n   true   otttline  and   proportion  as  a   small  canoe  con- 
tainmg   two  men,  whose  weight  seems  about  to  en-mlf 
>t,   and    by  wl.ose   paddle-strokes    it  is  in.pelled    with 


8 


THE  CUEOLKS   OF    LOI'ISIANA. 


such  evenness  and  speed  that  a  lung,  glassy  wave  gleams 
continually  at  either  side  a  full  inch  higher  than  the  edge 
of  the  boat,  he  will  have  before  him  a  picture  of  nature 
and  human  life  that  might  have  been  seen  at  any  time 
since  the  French  fathers  of  the  Louisiana  Creoles  colonized 
the  Delta. 

Near  the  southeastern  limit  of  this  region  is  the  spot 
where  these  ancestors  tirst  struck  permanent  root,  and 
the  growth  of  this  peculiar  and  interesting  civilization 
began. 


II. 

FRENCH    FOTINDERS. 

J^ET   lis   give  a  liiuil   ghuice  at  tlie  map.     It  is  tiie 
general  belief  that  a  line  of  elevated  land,  now  some 
eighty  or  ninety  miles  due  north  of  the  Louisiana  eoast, 
is  tlie  prehistoric  shore  of  tlie  (iulf.     A  range  of  high,' 
abrupt   hills   or   bluffs,    which   the   Mississippi   first   en- 
counters at  the  city  of  Vicksburg,  and  whose  southwest- 
ward  and   then    southward    trend    it    follows   thereafter 
to  the  town  of  Ikton  Kouge,   swerves,  just  below  this 
point,  rapidly  to  a  due  east  course,  and  dechnes  gradually 
until,  some  thirty  miles  short  of  the  eastern  boundary  of 
Louisiana,  it  sinks  entirely  down  into  a  broad  tract  of 
green  and  ilowery  sea-marsli  that  skirts,  for  many  leagues, 
the  waters  of  Mississippi  ISound. 

Close  along  under  these  subsiding  bluffs,  where  they 
stretch  to  the  east,  the  Bayou  Manchac,  once  Iberville 
Kiver,  and  the  lakes  beyond  it,  before  the  bayou  was 
artificially  obstructed,  united  the  waters  of  Missis8ii)pi 
Kiver  with  those  of  Mississippi  Sound.  Apparently  this 
line  of  water  was  once  the  river  itself.  Xow,  however, 
the  great  flood,  turning  less  abruptly,  takes  a  southeasterly 
course,  and,  gliding  tortuously,  wide,  yellow,  and  sunny, 


10  THE   CREOLES   OF   LOriSIAXA. 

between  low  sandy  ])anks  lined  with  endless  brakes  of 
Cottonwood  and  willow,  cuts  off  between  itself  and  its 
ancient  channel  a  portion  of  its  own  delta  formation. 
This  fragment  of  half-made  conntiy,  comprising  some- 
thing over  seventeen  hundred  square  miles  of  river-shore, 
dark  swamp-land,  and  bi'ight  marsh,  was  once  widely 
known,  both  in  convuerce  and  in  international  politics,  as 
Orleans  Island. 

Its  outline  is  extremely  irregular.  At  one  place  it  is 
fifty-seven  miles  across  from  the  river  shore  to  the  eastern 
edge  of  the  marshes.  Near  the  lower  end  there  is  scarce!  v 
the  range  of  a  "  musket-shot "  between  river  and  sea.  At 
a  point  almost  midway  of  the  island's  length  the  river 
and  Lake  Pontchartrain  approach  to  within  six  miles  of 
each  other,  and  it  was  here  that,  in  February,  171^,  was 
founded  the  citv  of  New  Orleans. 

Strictly,  the  genesis  of  Louisiana  dates  nineteen  years 
earlier.  In  IGOl),  while  Spain  and  Great  Britain,  each 
for  itself,  were  endeavoring  to  pre-empt  the  southern  out- 
let of  the  Mississippi  Valley,  France  had  sent  a  small  fleet 
from  Brest  for  the  same  purpose,  under  command  of  the 
brave  and  adventurous  Canadian,  D'Iberville.  This  gal- 
lant sailor  was  the  oldest  living  mend)er  in  a  remarkablv 
brilliant  grouj)  of  brothers,  the  sons  of  M.  Lemoyne  de 
Bienville,  a  gentlemai.  of  (Quebec,  who  had  been  able,  as 
it  appears,  to  add  to  the  family  name  of  Lemoyne  the 
title  of  a  distinct  estate  for  six  of  his  seven  sons. 

With  D'Iberville  came  several  remoter  kinsmen  and  at 


KRENCII   FOCNDKIIS. 


11 


least  two  of  his  brothers,  Sanvolle  and  liienville.  The 
eldest  of  the  seven  was  dead,  and  the  name  of  his  estate, 
Bienville,  had  fallen  to  the  youngest,  Jean  IJaptisto  bv 
name,  a  midshipman  of  hut  twenty-two,  but  destined  to 


Bienville. 


be  the  builder,  as  his  older  brother  was  the  founder,  of 
Louisiana,  and  to  weave  his  name,  a  golden  thread,  in- 
to the  history  of  the  Creoles  in  the  Mississippi  delta. 

D'lberville's  arrival  in  the  northern  waters  of  the  Gulf 
was  none  too  soon  for  his  ])uri)ose.     lie  found  the  Spau- 


12  THE   CREOLES   OF  LOUISIANA. 

iards  just  establishing  themselves  at  Pensacola  with  a  fleet 
of  too  nearly  his  own's  strength  to  be  amiably  crowded 
aside,  and  themselves  too  old  in  diplomacy  to  listen  to  his 
graceful  dissimulations ;  wherefore  he  sailed  farther  west 
and  planted  his  colony  upon  some  low,  infertile,  red, 
sandy  blufPs  covered  with  live-oaks  and  the  towering 
yellow-pine,  on  the  eastern  shore  of  a  beautiful,  sheltered 
water,  naming  the  bay  after  the  small  tribe  of  Indians 
that  he  found  there,  Biloxi.  The  young  Bienville,  sent  on 
to  explore  the  water-ways  of  the  country  westward,  met  a 
British  officer  ascending  the  Mississippi  with  two  vessels 
in  search  of  a  spot  fit  for  colonization,  and  by  assertions 
more  ingenious  than  candid  induced  him  to  withdraw, 
where  a  long  bend  of  the  river,  shining  in  the  distant 
plain,  is  still  pointed  out  from  the  towers  and  steeples 
of  New  Orleans  as  the  English  Turn. 

The  story  of  the  nineteen  years  that  followed  may  be 
told  almost  in  a  line.  Sauvolle,  left  by  D'Iberville  in 
charge  at  Biloxi,  died  two  years  after  and  was  succeeded  by 
Bienville.  The  governorship  of  the  province  thus  assumed 
by  the  young  French  Canadian  sailor  on  the  threshold  of 
manhood  he  did  not  finally  lay  down  until,  an  old  Rniglit 
of  St.  Louis  turning  his  sixty-fifth  year,  he  had  more  than 
earned  the  title,  fondly  given  him  by  the  Creoles,  of  "  the 
father  of  Louisiana."  He  was  on  one  occasion  still  their 
advocate  before  the  prime  minister  of  France,  when 
bowed  by  the  weight  of  eighty- six  winters,  and  still  the 
object  of  a  public  affection  that  seems  but  his  just  due 


FKENCJI   FOUNDEUS.  I3 

wlien  we  contemplate  in  his  portrait  the  broad,  cahn  fore- 
head, the  studious  eve,  observant,  even  seareliing,  and  yet 
quiet  and  pensive,  the  slender  nostrils,  the  firm-set  jaw 
the  lines  of  self-discipline,  the  strong,  wide,  steel-clad 
shoulders  and  the  general  air  of  kind  sagacity  and  reserved 
candor,  which  it  is  easy  to  believe,  from  his  history,  were 
nature's,  not  the  painter's,  gifts. 

It  was  he  who  projected  and   founded  Kew  Orleans. 
The  colony  at  Biloxi,  and  later  at  Mobile,  was  a  feeble  and 
ravenous  infant  griped  and  racked  by  two  internal  factions. 
One  was  bent  on  finding  gold  and  silver,  on  pearl-fishing, 
a  fur  trade,  and  a  commerce  with  South  America,  and,' 
therefore,  in  favor  of  a  sea-coast  establishment ;  the  other 
advocated  the  importation  of  French  agriculturists,  and 
then-  settlement  on  the  alluvial  banks  of  the  Mississippi 
Bxenville,  always   the   foremost  explorer  and  the  wisest 
counsellor,  from  the  beginning  m-ged  this  wiser  design 
For  years  he  was  overruled  under  the  commercial  policy 
of  the  merchant  monopolist,  Anthony  Crozat,  to  whom  the 
French  king  had  farmed  the  province.    IJut  when  Crozat's 
large  but  unremunerative  privileges  fell  into  the  liands  of 
John  Law,  director-general  of  the  renowned  Mississippi 
Company,  Bienville's  counsel  prevailed,  and  steps  were 
taken  for  removing  to  the  banks  of  the  Mississippi  the 
handful  of  French  and  Canadians  who  were   struggling 
agamst  starvation,  in  their  irrational  search  after  sudden 
wealth  on  the  sterile  beaches  of  Mississippi  Sound  and 
Massacre  Island. 


^'^  THE   OKEOLES   OF  LOUISIANA. 

The  year    before   Bienville   secured   this   long-sought 
authorization  to  found  a  new  post  on  the  Mississippi  he 
had  selected  its  site.     It  was  immediately  on  the  bank 
of  the  stream,     ^^o  later  sagacity  has  ever  succeeded  in 
pomtmg  out  a  more  favorable  site  on  which  to  put  up  the 
gates  of  the  great  valley  ;  and  here-though  the  land  was 
only  ten  feet  above  sea-level  at  the  water's  edge,  and  sank 
quickly  back   to   a   minimum   height   of  a   few  inches- 
though   it   was   almost   wholly   covered   with   a    cypress 
swamp  and  was  visibly  subject  to  frequent,  if  not  annual 
overflow;  and  though  a  hundred  miles  lay  between  it  and 
the  mouth  of  a  river  whose  current,  in  times  of  flood  it 
was  maintained,  no  vessel  could  overcome-here  Bienville 
111  1718,  changed  from  the  midshipman  of  twenty-two  to 
the  frontiersman,  explorer,  and  commander  of  forty-one 
placed  a  detachment  of  twenty-five  convicts  and  as  many 
carpenters,  who,  with  some  voyageurs  from  the  Illinois 
River,  made  a  clearing  and  erected  a  few  scattered  huts 
along  the  bank  of  the  river,  as  the  beginning  of  that  which 
he  was  determined  later  to  make  the  capital  of  the  civili- 
zation  to  whose  planting  in  this  gloomy  wilderness  he  had 
dedicated  his  life. 


III. 

THE  CREOLES'  CITY. 


S   t„!„      \        '" '""'  ^'"^  «'"■"-?»  of  a  few  woods. 

seasons  «-"^!  ''"'  "''' "'""^''  '^  ^'"S'«  «'-"S«  oi 
seasons,  their  lonely  s„,oke-wreaths  among  the  silent  wil 

ow  jungles  of  the  Mississippi,  when  Bienville  bej       o 

:i^t:^:ir\:ti-^::ri: 

U    prope,.  place  for  the  seat  of  government    and  C 

Thereupon  might  have  been   seen  this  engineer    the 
S.e„..  Le  Blond  de  la  Tour,  in  the  garb  of  a  IcniJlf  S 
J;0«.s,  modified  as  might  be  b,  the  exigencies  of^l  e  W 

dnvmg  stakes,  drawmg  lines,  marking  off  streets  and  lot. 
a  place  for  the  ch„,.eh  and  a  middle  front  square  f .  a' 
Place-d'armes;    da,    b,  day  ditching   and   Ja.isad  n" 


^ 


18  THE  CKEOLES   OF   LOUISIAXA. 

tlirowing  np  a  rude  levee  along  the  i-iver-front,  and  gradu- 
ally gathering  the  scattered  settlers  of  the  neighborhood 
into  the  form  of  a  town.  Eut  the  location  remained  the 
same. 

•       A  hundred  frail  palisade  huts,  some  rude  shelters  of 
larger  size  to  serve  as  church,  hospital,  government  house, 
and  company's  warehouses,  a  few  vessels  at  anchor  in  the 
muddy  river,  a  population  of  three  hundred,  mostly  men 
-such  was  the  dreary  hunter's  camp,  hidden  in  the  stifling 
undergrowth  of  the  half-cleared,  miry  ground,  where,  in 
the  naming  of  streets,  the  dukes  of  Orleans,   Chartres, 
Maine,  and  Bourbon,  the  princes  of  Conti  and  Conde,  and 
the  Count  of  Toulouse,  had  been  honored  ;  where,  finally, 
in  June  to  August,  1722,  the  royal  commissioners  con- 
senting,  the  company's   effects  and  troops  were   gradu- 
ally removed  and  Bienville  set  up  his  head-quarters  ;  and 
where   this  was  but  just  done  when,  in  September,  as 
an  earnest  of    the  land's  fierce  inhospitality,  a  tornado 
whisked    away   church,    hospital,    and   thirty   dwellings, 
prostrated   the   crops,   and,  in  particular,  destroyed  the 
priceless  rice. 

The  next  year,  1723,  brought  no  better  fortune.  At 
home,  the  distended  Mississippi  Bubble  began  to  show 
its  filminess,  and  the  distress  which  it  spread  everywhere 
came  across  the  Atlantic.  As  in  France,  the  momentary 
stay-stomach  was  credit.  On  this  basis  the  company's 
agent  and  the  plantation  grantees  harmonized ;  new  in- 
dustries, notably  indigo  culture,  were  introduced ;  debts 


TIIK   CKEOLES'  CITY.  10 

were  paid  with  paper,  and  the  embryo  city  reached  the 
number  of  sixteen  hundred  inhabitants ;  an  agricul- 
tural province,  whose  far-scattered  plantations,  missions, 
and  military  posts  counted  nearly  live  thousaiid  souls, 
promised  her  its  commercial  tribute. 

Then  followed  collapse,  the  scaling  of  debts  by  royal 
edict,  four  repetitions  of  this  gross  expedient,  and,  by 
1720,  a  sounder,  though  a  shorn,  prosperity. 

The  year  1728  completed  the  first  decade  of  the  town's 
existence.  Few  who  know  its  history  will  stand  to-day  in 
Jackson  Square  and  glance  from  its  quaint,  old-fashioned 
gardening  to  the  foreign  and  antique  aspect  of  tlie  sur- 
rounding architecture — its  broad  verandas,  its  deep  ar- 
cades, the  graceful  patterns  of  its  old  wrought-iron  balco- 
nies, its  rich  effects  of  color,  of  blinding  sunlight,  and 
of  cool  shadow — without  finding  the  fancy  presently 
stirred  up  to  overleap  the  beginning  of  even  these  time- 
stained  features,  and  recall  the  humbler  town  of  Jean- 
Baptiste  Lemoyne  de  Bienville,  as  it  huddled  about  this 
classic  spot  when  but  ten  years  had  passed  since  the  first 
blow  of  the  settler's  axe  had  echoed  across  the  waters  of 
the  Mississippi. 

This,  from  the  beginning,  was  the  Place  d'Armes.  It 
was  of  the  same  rectangular  figure  it  has  to-day  :  larger 
only  by  the  width  of  the  present  sidewalks,  an  open  plat 
of  coarse,  native  grass,  crossed  by  two  diagonal  paths  and 
occupying  the  exact  middle  of  the  town  front.  Behind 
it,  in  the  mid-front  of  a  like  apportionment  of  ground 


20  TIIK   CUKOLKS   OF   LOnsiA.VA. 

reserved  for  ecclesitistical  uses,  where  St.  Louis  Cathedral 
now  overlooks  the  Sijuare,  stood  the  church,  huilt,  like 
most  of  the  public  buildings,  of  brick.  On  the  church's 
right  were  the  small  guard-house  and  prisons,  and  on  the 
left  the  dwelling  of  some  Capuchins.  The  spiritual  care 
of  all  that  portion  of  the  province  between  the  mouths 
of  the  Mississippi  and  the  Illinois  Mas  theirs.  On  the 
front  of  the  s(|uare  that  Hanked  the  Place  d'Armes  above, 
the  government-house  looked  out  upon  the  river.  In  the 
corresponding  scpiare,  on  the  lower  side,  but  facing  from 
the  river  and  diagonally  opposite  the  Capuchins,  were  the 
quarters  of  the  government  employes.  The  grounds  that 
faced  the  up})er  and  lower  sides  of  the  Place  d'Armes  were 
still  unoccupied,  except  by  cordwood,  entrenching  tools, 
and  a  few  pieces  of  parked  artillery,  on  the  one  side,  and 
a  small  house  for  issuing  rations  on  the  other.  Just  off 
the  river  front,  in  Toulouse  Street,  were  the  smithies  of 
the  Marine ;  correspondingly  placed  in  Du  Maine  Street 
were  two  long,  narrow  buildings,  the  king's  warehouses. 

Ursulines  Street  was  then  Arsenal  Street.  On  its  iirst 
upper  corner  was  the  hospital,  with  its  grounds  extending 
back  to  the  street  behind ;  while  the  empty  square  oppo- 
site, below,  reserved  for  an  arsenal,  was  just  receiving,  in- 
stead, the  foundations  of  the  convent-building  that  stands 
there  to-day.  A  company  of  Ursuline  nuns  had  come  the 
year  before  from  France  to  open  a  school  for  girls,  and 
to  attend  the  sick  in  hospital,  and  were  quartered  at  the 
other  end  of  the  town  awaiting  the  construction  of  their 


TliK   riJKOLKs'    CITY.  2ii 

nunnery.  It  was  linisliecl  in  IT^Jo.  Tlicy  occnpied  it  for 
ninety -four  years,  and  vacated  it  only  in  1S24  to  remove 
to  the  larger  and  more  retired  convent  on  the  river  yhore, 
near  the  present  lower  limits  of  the  city,  where  they 
remain  at  the  present  day.  The  older  house — one  of  the 
oldest,  if  nut  the  oldest  building,  standing  in  the  Missis- 
sippi Valley— became,  in  JSHl,  the  State  House,  and  in 
1834,  as  at  present,  the  seat  of  the  Archbishop  of 
Louisiana. 

For  tlie  rest,  there  was  little  but  forlorn  confusion. 
Though  the  plan  of  the  town  comprised  a  parallelogram 
of  five  thousand  feet  river  front  by  a  depth  of  eighteen 
hundred,  and  was  divided  into  regular  squares  of  three 
hundred  feet  front  and  breadth,  yet  the  appearance  of  the 
place  was  disorderly  and  squalid.  A  few  cabins  of  split 
boards,  thatched  with  cypress  bark,  were  scattered  con- 
fusedly over  the  ground,  surrounded  and  isolated  from 
each  other  by  willow-brakes  and  reedy  ponds  and  sloughs 
bristling  with  dwarf  palmetto  and  swarming  with  reptiles. 
Xo  one  liad  built  beyond  Bauphine  Street,  the  fifth  from 
the  river,  though  twenty-two  squares  stood  empty  to  clioose 
among ;  nor  below  the  hospital,  nor  above  Bienville  Street, 
except  that  the  Governor  himself  dwelt  at  the  extreme 
upper  corner  of  the  town,  now  the  corner  of  Customhouse 
and  Decatur  Streets.  Orleans  Street,  cutting  the  town 
transversely  in  half  behind  the  church,  was  a  quarter  fa- 
vored by  the  unimportant ;  while  along  the  water-front, 
and  also  in  Chartres  and  Iloyale  Streets,  just  behind,  rose 


24 


THE  CREOLES  OF   LOUISIANA. 


the  homes  of  the  colony's  official  and  commercial  poten- 
tates :  some  small,  low,  and  built  of  cypress,  others  of 
brick,  or  brick  and  frame,  broad,  and  two  or  two  and  a 
half  stories  in  height.  But  about  and  over  all  was  the 
rank  growth  of  a  wet  semi-tropical  land,  especially  the 
water-willow,  planted  here  and  there  in  avenues,  and  else- 
where springing  up  at  wild  random  amid  occasional  es- 
says at  gardening. 


In  the  New  Convent  Garden. 

Such  was  New  Orleans  in  1Y28.  The  restraints  of  so- 
cial life  had,  until  now,  been  few  and  weak.  Some  of  the 
higher  officials  had  brought  their  wives  from  France,  and 
a  few  Canadians  theirs  from  Canada ;  but  they  were  a 
small  fraction  of  all.  The  mass  of  the  men,  principally 
soldiers,   trappers,  redemptioners  bound  to  three  years' 


THE  CREOLES'    CITY.  25 

sci'vice,  millers,  galley-slaves,  knew  little,  and  cared  less, 
for  citizenship  or  public  order;  while  the  women,  still 
few,  were,  almost  all,  the  unreformed  and  forcibly  trans- 
ported inmates  of  liouses  of  correction,  with  a  few  Choc- 
taw squaws  and  African  slaves.  They  gambled,  fought 
duels,  lounged  about,  drank,  wantoned,  and  caroused — 
"  Sans  religion,  sans  justice,  sans  discipline,  sans  ordre, 
et  sans  police." 

Yet  the  company,  as  required  by  its  charter,  had  begun 
to  improve  the  social  as  well  as  the  architectural  features 
of  its  provincial  capital.  The  importation  of  male  vaga- 
bonds had  ceased ;  stringent  penalties  had  been  laid  upon 
gambling,  and  as  already  noted,  steps  had  been  taken  to 
promote  education  and  religion.  The  aid  of  the  Jesuits 
had  been  enlisted  for  the  training  of  the  male  youth  and 
the  advancement  of  agriculture. 

In  the  winter  of  1727-28  a  crowning  benclit  had  been 
reached.  On  the  levee,  just  in  front  of  the  Place  d' Amies 
the  motley  public  of  the  wild  town  was  gathered  to  see  a 
goodly  sight.  A  ship  had  come  across  the  sea  and  up  the 
river  with  the  most  precious  of  all  possible  earthly  car- 
goes. She  had  tied  up  against  the  grassy,  willow-planted 
bank,  and  there  were  coining  ashore  and  grouping  to- 
gether in  the  Place  d' Amies  under  escort  of  the  Ur- 
suline  nuns,  a  good  threescore,  not  of  houseless  girls 
from  the  streets  of  Paris,  as  heretofore,  but  of  maidens 
from  the  hearthstones  of  France,  to  be  disposed  of  under 
the  discretion  of  the  nuus,  in  marriage.    And  then  there 


26  THE  CREOLES   OF  LOUISIAJfA. 

came  ashore  and  were  set  down  in  the  rank  grass,  many 
small,  stout  chests  of  clothing.  There  was  a  trunk  for 
each  maiden,  a  maiden  for  each  trunk,  and  both  maidens 
and  trunks  the  gift  of  the  king. 

Vive  le  roi  !  it  was  a  golden  day.  Better  still,  this  was 
but  the  initial  consignment.  Similar  companies  came  in 
subsequent  years,  and  the  girls  with  trunks  were  long 
known  in  the  traditions  of  their  colonial  descendants  by 
the  honorable  distinction  of  the  ''''jilles  a  la  cassette  "—the 
casket-girls.  There  cannot  but  linger  a  regret  around  this 
slender  fact,  so  full  of  romance  and  the  best  poetry  of  real 
life,  that  it  is  so  slender.  But  the  Creoles  have  never 
been  careful  for  the  authentication  of  their  traditions,  and 
the  only  assurance  left  to  us  so  late  as  this  is,  that  the 
good  blood  of  these  modest  girls  of  long-forgotten  names, 
and  of  the  brave  soldiers  to  whom  they  gave  their  hands 
with  the  king's  assent  and  dower,  flows  in  the  veins  of 
the  best  Creole  families  of  the  present  day. 

Thus,  at  the  end  of  the  first  ten  years,  the  town  summed 
up  all  the  true,  though  roughly  outlined,  features  of  a 
civilized  community :  the  church,  the  school,  courts,  hos- 
pital, council-hall,  virtuous  homes,  a  military  arm  and  a 
commerce.  This  last  was  fettered  by  the  monopoly  rights 
of  the  company ;  but  the  thirst  for  gold,  silver,  and  pearls 
liad  yielded  to  wiser  thought,  a  fur  trade  had  developed, 
and  the  scheme  of  an  agricultural  colony  was  rewarded 
with  success. 

But  of  this  town  and  province,  to  whose  development 


THE  CREOLES'    CITY.  27 

tlieir  founder  had  dedicated  all  his  energies  and  sagacity, 
Bienville  was  no  longer  governor.  In  October,  1726,  the 
schemes  of  official  rivals  had  procured  not  only  his  dis- 
placement, but  that  of  his  various  kinsmen  in  the  colony. 
It  was  under  a  new  commandant-general,  M.  Perier,  that 
protection  from  flood  received  noteworthy  attention,  and 
that,  in  1726,  the  first  levee  worthy  of  the  name  was  built 
on  the  bank  of  the  Mississippi. 


IV. 

AFRICAN  SLAVES  AND  INDIAN  WARS. 

rrillE  problem  of  civilization  in  Louisiana  was  early 
complicated  by  the  presence  and  mutual  contact  of 
three  races  of  men.  The  Mississippi  Company's  agricul- 
tural colonial  scheme  was  based  on  the  West  Indian  idea 
of  Afri«..iu  slave  labor.  Already  the  total  number  of 
blacks  had  risen  to  equal  that  of  the  whites,  and  within 
the  Delta,  outside  of  Xew  Orleans,  they  must  have  largely 
preponderated.  In  1727  this  idea  began  to  be  put  into 
effect  just  without  the  town's  upper  boundary,  where  the 
Jesuit  fathers  accommodated  themselves  to  it  in  model 
form,  and  between  1720  and  1745  gradually  acquired  and 
put  under  cultivation  the  whole  tract  of  land  now  covered 
by  the  First  District  of  Xew  Orleans,  the  centre  of  the 
city's  wealth  and  commerce.  The  slender,  wedge-shaped 
space  between  Common  ann  L  lal  Streets,  and  the  sub- 
sequent accretions  of  soil  on  tne  river  front,  are  the  only 
parts  of  the  First  District  not  once  comprised  in  the  Jesu- 
its' plantations.  Education  seems  not  to  have  had  their 
immediate  attention,  but  a  myrtle  orchard  was  planted 
on  their  river-front,  and  the  orange,  fig,  and  sugar-cane 


AFRICAN   SLAVES   AND   INDIAN   WARS.  29 

were  introduced  by  them  into  the  country  at  later  inter- 
vals. 

Other  and  older  plantations  were  yearly  sending  in 
the  products  of  the  same  unfortunate  agricultural  system. 
The  wheat  and  the  flour  from  the  Illinois  and  the  Wabash 
were  the  results  of  free  farm  and  mill  labor ;  but  the 
tobacco,  the  timber,  the  indigo,  and  the  rice  came  mainly 
from  the  slave-tilled  fields  of  the  company's  grantees  scat- 
tered at  wide  intervals  in  the  more  accessible  regions 
of  the  great  Delta.  The  only  free  labor  of  any  note 
employed  within  that  basin  was  a  company  of  Alsatians, 
which  had  been  orighially  settled  on  the  Arkansas  by 
John  Law,  but  which  had  descended  to  within  some 
thirty  miles  of  Xew  Orleans,  had  there  become  the  mar- 
ket-gardeners of  the  growing  town,  in  more  than  one  ad- 
verse season  had  been  its  main  stay,  and  had  soon  won 
and  long  enjoyed  the  happy  distinction  of  hearing  their 
region  called  in  fond  remembrance  of  the  rich  Burgun- 
dian  hills  of  the  same  name  far  beyond  the  ocean — the 
Cote  d'Or,  the  "  Golden  Coast." 

The  Indians  had  welcomed  the  settling  of  the  French 
with  feasting  and  dancing.  The  erection  of  forts  among 
them  at  Biloxi,  Mobile,  the  Xatchez  bluffs,  and  elsewhere, 
gave  no  confessed  offence.  Their  game,  the  spoils  of  their 
traps,  their  lentils,  their  corn,  and  their  woodcraft  were 
always  at  the  white  man's  service,  and  had,  more  than 
once,  come  between  him  and  starvation.  They  were  not 
the  less  acceptable  because  their  donors  counted  on  geuer- 


80  THE   CREOLES   OF   LOUISIANA. 

0118  offsets  in  powder  and  ball,  brandy,  blankets,  and  gew- 
gaws. 

In  the  Delta  proper,  the  Indians  were  a  weak  and  di- 
vided remnant  of  the  Alibamon  race,  dwelling  in  scat- 
tered sub-tribal  villages  of  a  few  scores  or  hundreds  of 
warriors  each.  It  was  only  beyond  these  limits  that  the 
powerful  nations  of  the  Choctaws,  the  Cliickasaws,  and 
the  Natchez,  offered  any  suggestions  of  possible  war. 

Bienville  had,  from  his  first  contact  with  them,  shown 
a  thorough  knowledge  of  the  Indian  character.  By  a  pat- 
ronage supported  on  one  side  by  inflexibility,  and  on  the 
other  by  good  faith,  he  inspired  the  respect  and  confi- 
dence of  all  alike ;  and,  for  thirty  years,  neither  the  sloth- 
ful and  stupid  Alibamons  of  the  Delta  nor  the  proud  and 
fierce  nations  around  his  distant  posts  gave  any  serious 
cause  to  fear  the  disappearance  of  good- will. 

But  M.  Perier,  who  had  succeeded  Bienville,  though  up- 
right in  his  relations  with  his  ministerial  superiors,  was 
more  harsh  than  wise,  and  one  of  his  subordinates,  hold- 
ing the  command  of  Fort  Rosalie,  among  the  distant 
Natchez  (a  position  requiring  the  greatest  diplomacy),  was 
arrogant,  cruel,  and  unjust.  Bienville  had  not  long  been 
displaced  when  it  began  to  be  likely  that  the  Frenchmen 
who  had  come  to  plant  a  civilization  in  the  swamps  of 
Louisiana,  imder  circumstances  and  surroundings  so  new 
and  strange  as  those  we  have  noticed,  would  have  to  take 
into  their  problem  this  additional  factor,  of  a  warfare  with 
the  savages  of  the  country. 


AFKICAX    SLAVES    AND    IXDIAX    WARS.  31 

AVIien  the  issue  came,  its  bloody  scenes  were  far  re- 
moved from  that  region  which  lias  grown  to  be  special- 
ly the  land  of  the  Creoles ;  and,  in  that  region,  neither 
Frenchman  nor  Creole  was  ever  forced  to  confront  the 
necessity  of  defending  his  home  from  the  torch,  or  his 
wife  and  children  from  the  tomahawk. 

The  first  symptom  of  danger  was  the  visible  discontent 
of  the  Chickasaws,  with  whom  the  English  were  in  amity, 
and  of  the  Choctaws.  Perier,  however,  called  a  council 
of  their  chiefs  in  Kew  Orleans,  and  these  departed  with 
protestations  of  friendship  and  loyalty  that  deceived  him. 
Suddenly,  in  the  winter  of  1729-30,  a  single  soldier 
arrived  in  New  Orleans  from  Fort  Kosalie,  with  the 
word  that  the  Xatchez  had  surprised  and  destroyed  the 
place,  massacred  over  two  hundred  men,  and  taken  cap- 
tive ninety-two  women  and  one  hundred  and  fifty-five  chil- 
dren. A  few  others,  who,  with  their  forerunner,  were  all 
who  had  escaped,  appeared  soon  after  and  confirmed  the 
news.  Smaller  settlements  on  the  Yazoo  Kiver  and  on 
Sicily  Island,  on  the  AVashita,  had  shared  a  like  fate. 

In  New  Orleans  all  was  confusion  and  alarm,  with  prep- 
arations for  war,  offensive  and  defensive.  Arms  and  am- 
munition were  hurriedly  furnished  to  every  house  in  the 
town  and  on  the  neighboring  plantations.  Through  the 
weedy  streets  and  in  from  the  adjacent  country,  along 
the  levee  top  and  by  the  plantation  roads  and  causeways, 
the  militia,  and,  from  their  wretched  barracks  in  Koy- 
ale  Street,  the  dilapidated  regulars,  rallied  to  the  Pla(  j 


88  THE  CBEOLES  OF  LOUISIANA. 

three  hundred  of  each,  under  one  of  his  captains;  to  the 
eeat  of  war.  The  entrenching  tools  and  artille  y  we  e 
brought  out  of  the  en.pt,  lot  in  St.  Peter  Street,  and  a 

until  at  the  end  of  a  year  the  town  was,  for  the  first  time 

surrounded  with  a  line  of  rnde  fortifications  ' 

Meanwhile,  the  burdens  of  war  distributed  themselves 

upon  the  passive  as  well  as  upon  the  active ;  terror  of  I 

^e^  sndden  alarms,  false  hopes,  an.io„s  susVensZ  fit 

east,  the  restn-eness  of  the  negroes.     The  bad  effects  of 
sWholdmg  began  to  show  themselves.    The  nearness 
of  some  small  vagrant  bands  of  friendly  Indians,  lb  u 
hangers-on  o    the  settlement,  became  «a  subje  t  of 
-,    and,  with  a  like  fear  of  the  blacks,  fier L  Afridns 
taken  .n  war,  led  to  an  act  of  shocking  cruelty.    A  bid 
of  negroes,  slaves  of  the  company,  armed  and  sentlor  he 
pu^ose  by  Perier  himself,  fell  „p„„  ,  ,„,„       ;*' 
Chouachas  Indians  dwelling  peaceably  on  the  town^s  lower 
horde,  and  massacred  the  entire  village.     EmboldZ 

but  the,r  plans  were  discovered  and   the  leaders  were 
executed.    In  the  year  after,  the  same  blacks,  incited  T 
fugitive    slaves  sent  among   them  by   the  Chickasaws 
ag..ed  upon  a  night  for  the  massacre  of  the  whites  •  b"  ^ 
a  negress  who  had  been  struck  by  a  soldier  let  sli;  the 


AFRICAN  SLAVES   AND   INDIAN   WAUS.  33 

secret  in  her  threats,  and  the  ringleaders,  eight  men  and 
the  woman,  were  pnt  to  death,  she  on  tlie  gallows  and 
tiiey  on  the  wheel.  The  men's  heads  were  stuck  upon 
posts  at  the  upper  and  lower  ends  of  the  town  front,  and 
at  the  Tchoupitoulas  settlement  and  the  king's  plantation 
on  the  farther  side  of  the  Mississippi. 

But  turning  a  page  of  the  record  we  see  our  connnon 
human  nature  in  a  kindlier  aspect.     Two  hundred  and 
fifty  women  and  children  taken  by  the  Xatche/  had  been 
retaken,  and  were  brought  to  Kew  Orleans  and  landed  on 
the  Place  d'Armes.     There  they  were  received   by  the 
people  with  tears  and  laughter  and  open  arms.     At  first, 
room  was  made  for  them  in  the  public  hospital ;  but  the 
Ursulines,  probably  having  just  moved  into  their  com- 
pleted  convent,   adopted   the    orphan  girls.      The   boys 
found  foster-parents  in  well-to-do  families,  and  the  whole 
number  of  refugees  was  presently  absorbed,  many  of  the 
widows  again  becoming  wives. 

The  Chickasaws  and  Yazoos  became  allies  of  the 
Natchez,  and  the  Choctaws  of  the  French.  But  space 
does  not  permit  nor  our  object  require  us  to  follow  the 
camp  of  the  latter,  to  recount  their  somewhat  dilatoiy  suc- 
cesses on  the  Xatchez  hills,  and  in  the  swamps  of  the 
AVashita,  or  on  the  distant  banks  of  Red  River  under  the 
intrepid  St.  Denis.  The  Natchez  nation  was  con.pletely 
dismembered.  The  prisoners  of  war  were  sent  across  the 
Gulf  to  die  in  the  cruel  slavery  of  the  San  Domingo  suc-ar 
plantations.      Tlie  few  survivors  who   escaped  Captivity 


34  TIIK   CKKOLES   OF   LOUISIANA. 

M'cre  adopted  into  the  Chickasaw  nation  ;  but  even  so,  they 
qualified  by  repeated  depredations  the  limited  peace  that 
followed. 

In  1733,  Bienville  was  restored  to  the  governorship ; 
but  his  i)ower  to  connuand  the  confidence  and  good  faith 
of  the  savages  was  lost.     In  1735,  aggressions  still  con- 
tinuing, he  demanded  of  the  Chickasaws  the  surrender 
of  their  Katchez  and  Yazoo  refugees,  and   was  refused. 
Thei-eupon  he  was  ordered  to  make  war,  and  the  early 
spring  of  1730  saw  :New  Orleans  again  in  the  stirrincr  con- 
fusion  of  marshalling  a  small  army.     The  scene  of  its  em- 
barkation was  the  little  village  of  St.  John,  on  the  bayou 
of  that  name,  where,  in  thirty  barges  and  as  many  ca- 
noes, this  motley  gathering  of  uniformed  regulars,  leather- 
shirted  militia,  naked  blacks,  and  feathered  and  painted 
Indians,  set  off  through  the  tall  bulrushes,  and  canebrakes, 
and  moss-hung  cypresses,  and  so  on  by  way  of  the  lakes, 
Mississippi  Sound,  and  the  Alabama  River,  to  exterminate 
the  Chickasaws.     A  few  months  passed,  and  the  same 
spot  witnessed  another  scene,  when  Bienville  disembarked 
under  its  wide-spreading  oaks  and  stately  magnolias,  the 
renmant  of  his  forces,  sick,  wounded,  and  discouraged, 
after  a  short,  inglorious,  and  disastrous  campaign  in  what 
is  now  Northeastern  Mississippi. 

Bienville's  years  — he  was  still  but  fifty-six  —  will 
hardly  account  for  the  absence  of  that  force  and  sagacity 
which  had  once  made  him  so  admirable  and  of  such  great 
value ;  but  whatever  may  have  been  the  cause,  the  colo- 


AFIUCAX   SLAVES    AND    INDIAN    AVARS.  35 

nists,  in  wliose  affections  he  still  lickl  the  foremost  place, 
found  in  him  only  a  faltering  and  mismanaging  leader 
into  disasters,  whose  record  continued  from  this  time  to  be 
an  unbroken  series  of  pathetic  failures. 

The  year  1739  saw  the  French  authority  still  deiied  and 
the  colony's  frontier  harassed.  In  September,  Bienville 
mustered  another  force.  The  regulars,  the  militia,  three 
companies  of  marines  lately  from  France,  and  sixteen 
hundred  Indians,  filed  out  through  Tchoupitoulas  gate  and 
started  for  the  Chickasaw  country,  this  time  by  way  «^f 
the  Mississippi.  At  the  present  site  of  Memphis,  they 
were  joined  by  levies  from  Canada  and  elsewhere,  and 
IJienville  counted  a  total  force  in  hand  of  thirty-six  hun- 
dred men,  white,  red,  and  black.  ?so  equal  force  had 
ever  taken  the  field  in  Louisiana.  But  plans  had  mis- 
carried, provisions  were  failing,  ill-health  was  general,  the 
wide  country  lying  eastward  and  still  to  be  crossed  was 
full  of  swollen  streams,  and  when  the  little  army  again 
took  up  the  line  of  march,  it  actually  found  itself  in  full 
retreat  without  having  reached  the  enemy's  country. 
Only  a  detachment  of  some  six  or  seven  hundred  Cana- 
dians, French,  and  IS'orthern  Indians,  under  a  subordinate 
officer,  moved  upon  the  Chickasaws,  and  meeting  them 
with  sudden  energy,  before  their  own  weakness  could  be 
discovered,  extorted  some  feeble  concessions  in  exchange 
for  peace.  In  the  spring  of  1740  Bienville  returned  with 
a  sick  and  starving  remnant  of  his  men,  and  with  no 
better  result  than  a  discreditable  compromise. 


86  TlIK   CitEOLKS    UF   LOUISIANA. 

Ten  years  of  unrest,  of  struggle  against  savage  aggres- 
sion, and  for  tlie  mastery  over  two  naked  races,  had  now 
passed.  ^[eantinie,  tiie  commerce  of  the  colony  had 
begun  to  have  a  history.  The  Company  of  the  Indies, 
into  which  the  Compagnie  de  TOccident,  or  Mississippi 
Company,  had  been  absorbed,  discouraged  by  tlie  rs'atchez 
war  and  better  pleased  with  its  privileges  on  the  Guinea 
coast,  and  in  the  East  Indies,  had,  as  early  as  June,  1731, 
tendered,  and  in  April  had  effected,  the  surrender  of  its 
western  charter.  The  king  had  thereupon  established  be- 
tween Louisiana  and  his  subjects  elsewhere  a  virtual  free- 
trade  ;  a  fresh  intercourse  had  sprung  up  with  France  and 
the  West  Indies ;  an  innnigration  had  set  in  from  these 
islands,  and,  despite  the  Chickasaw  campaigns  and  paper 
money,  had  increased  from  year  to  year.  At  the  close  of 
these  campaigns,  business  further  revived,  and  the  town, 
as  it  never  had  done  before,  began  spontaneously  to  de- 
velop from  within  outward  by  the  enterprise  of  its  own 
inhabitants. 

The  colony's  star  was  rising,  but  Bienville's  was  still 
going  down.  The  new  prosperity  and  growth  was  not 
attributed,  nor  is  it  traceable,  to  his  continued  govern- 
ment. As  time  passed  on  he  was  made  easily  to  see  that 
he  had  lost  the  favor  of  the  French  minister.  He  begged 
to  be  recalled ;  and  in  May,  1743,  on  the  arrival  of  the  Mar- 
quis de  Yaudreuil  as  his  successor,  he  bade  a  last  farewell 
to  the  city  he  had  founded  and  to  that  Louisiana  of  which 
it  was  proper  for  the  people  still  to  call  him  "  the  father." 


V. 

THE  NEW   GENERATION. 


Ty^lIEX,  on  the  lOtli  of  May,  1743,  the  Marquis  do 
Vaiidreiiil  landed  in  New  Orleans,  private  enter- 
prise—the true  foundation  of  material  prosperity— was 
iirnily  established.  Indigo,  rice,  and  tobacco  were  moving 
in  quantity  to  Europe,  and  lumber  to  the  AVest  Indies. 
Ships  that  went  out  loaded  came  back  loaded  again,  es- 
pecially from  St.  Domingo;  and  traffic  with  the  Indians, 
and  with  the  growing  white  population  along  the  innriense 
length  of  the  Mississippi  and  its  tributaries,  was  bringing 
money  into  the  town  and  multiplying  business  year  by 
year. 

Hope  ran  high  when  the  Marquis  was  appointed.  His 
family  had  much  influence  at  court,  and  anticipations  were 
bright  of  royal  patronage  and  enterprise  in  the  colony 
and  in  its  capital.  But  these  expectations,  particularly  as 
to  Xew  Orleans,  were  feebly  met.  There  was  an  increase 
in  the  number  of  the  troops  and  a  great  enhancement  of 
supei-ficial  military  splendor,  with  an  imscrupulous  getting 
and  reckless  spending  of  Government  goods  and  money, 
and  a  large  importation   of    pretentious  frivolity   from 


38  THE  CREOLES  OF   LOUISIANA. 

the  Bourbon  camps  and  palaces.  By  1751,  every  second 
man  in  the  streets  of  Kew  Orleans  was  a  soldier  in  daz- 
zling uniform.  They  called  the  governor  the  "  Grand 
Marquis."  IJe  was  graceful  and  comely,  dignitied  in 
bearing,  fascinating  in  address,  amiable,  lavish,  fond  of 
pleasure,  and,  with  his  marchioness,  during  the  twelve 
years  of  his  sojourn  in  Louisiana,  maintained  the  little 
colonial  court  with  great  pomp  and  dissipation. 

Otherwise  the  period  was  of  a  quiet,  formative  sort, 
and  the  few  stimulants  to  growth  offered  bv  Government 
overshot  the  town  and  fell  to  the  agricultural  grantees. 
The  production  of  tobacco  and  myrtle-wax  was  encour- 
aged, but  it  was  also  taxed.  Through  the  Jesuit  fathers, 
sugar-cane  w\as  introduced.  But  one  boon  continued  to 
eclipse  all  the  rest:  year  by  year  came  the  casket-girls, 
and  Mere  given  in  marriage  to  the  soldiers  chosen  for 
good  conduct,  with  a  tract  of  land  to  begin  life  on.  The 
last  ship-load  came  ashore  in  1751. 

The  most  conspicuous  attentions  offered  Kc\.  Orleans 
were  a  prohibition  against  trading  with  the  English  and 
Dutch,  and  further  inundations  of  paper  money.  The 
little  port  continued  to  grow,  though  pirates  infested  the 
Gulf,  British  privateers  wei'e  sometimes  at  the  veiy 
mouth  of  the  river,  seasons  were  advei'se,  and  Indian  allies 
insolent.  It  was  reported  with  pride,  that  forty-live 
brick  houses  were  erected  between  the  autumns  of  1749 
and  1752. 

Among    the  people  a  transmutation    was  going    on. 


THE   NEW   GENERATION.  39 

French  fathers  were  moving  aside  to  make  room  for 
Creole  sons.  The  life  of  the  seniors  had  been  what  the 
life  of  redemptioners  and  liberated  convicts,  combining 
with  that  of  a  French  and  Swiss  line  and  staff  in  and 
abont  the  ontposts  of  such  a  frontier,  might  be :  idle, 
thriftless,  gallant,  bold,  rude,  free,  and  scornful  of  labor, 
which  the  company  had  brought  into  permanent  contempt 
bv  the  introduction  of  African  slaves.  In  this  atmos- 
phere they  had  brought  up  their  children.  Xow  these 
children  were  taking  their  parents'  places,  and  with  I.atin 
ductility  were  conforming  to  the  mold  of  their  nearest 
surroundings.  They  differed  from  their  transatlantic  stock 
nuich  as  the  face  of  nature  in  Louisiana  differed  from  that 
in  France.  A  soil  of  unlimited  fertility  became,  through 
slavery,  not  an  incentive  to  industry,  but  a  promise  of  un- 
earned plenty.  A  luxurious  and  enervating  climate  joined 
its  influence  with  this  condition  to  debase  even  the  (iallic 
love  of  pleasure  to  an  unambitious  apathy  and  an  untrained 
sensuality.  The  courteous  manners  of  France  were 
largely  retained  ;.but  the  habit  of  connnanding  a  dull  aiul 
abject  slave  class,  over  which  a  "  black  code"  gave  every 
white  man  full  powers  of  police,  induced  a  certain  tierce 
iuiperiousness  of  will  and  temper  ;  while  that  proud  love 
of  freedom,  so  pervasive  throughout  the  American  wilder- 
ness, rose  at  times  to  an  attitude  of  arrogant  superiority 
over  all  constraint,  and  became  the  occasion  of  harsh  com- 
ment in  the  reports  sent  to  France  by  the  officers  of  their 
king.     In  the  lakes,  canebrakes,  and  swamps,  and  on  the 


40  THE  CREOLES   OF   LOUISIANA. 

bayou  ridges,  of  their  dark,  wet  forests,  and  on  the  sunny 
expanses  of  their  marshes,  a  great  abundance  of  bears, 
panthers,  deer,  swan,  geese,  and  lesser  game  gave  a  bold 
zest  to  arduous  sport.  The  chase  became  almost  the  only 
form  of  exertion,  and  woodcraft  often  the  only  education. 
As  for  the  gentler  sex,  catching  less  grossness  from 
negro  slavery  and  less  rudeness  from  the  wilderness,  they 
were,  in  mind  as  well  as  morals,  superior  to  the  men. 
They  could  read  and  write  and  make  a  little  music.  Such 
French  vivacity  as  still  remahied  chose  the  ball-room  as 
their  chief  delight,  while  the  gaming-table  was  the  indoor 
passion  of  the  men.  Unrestrained,  proud,  intrepid,  self- 
reliant,  rudely  voluptuous,  of  a  high  intellectual  order, 
yet  uneducated,  unreasoning,  impulsive,  and  inflammable 
— such  was  the  first  native-born  generation  of  Franco- 
Louisianians. 


VL 

THE  FIRST  CREOLES. 

TTTIIAT  is  a  Creole  ?  Even  in  Louisiana  tlie  question 
would  be  variously  answered.'  The  title  did  not 
here  first  belong  to  the  descendants  of  Spanish,  but  of 
French  settlers.  But  such  a  meaning  implied  a  certain 
excellence  of  origin,  and  so  came  early  to  include  any 
native,  of  French  or  Spanish  descent  by  either  parent, 
whose  non-alliance  with  the  slave  race  entitled  him  to 
social  rank.  Later,  the  term  was  adopted  by — not  con- 
ceded to — the  natives  of  mixed  blood,  and  is  still  so  used 
among  themselves.     At  length  the  spirit  of  commerce 


'  As  to  the  etymology  of  the  word  there  are  many  conjectures,  but 
few  bold  assertions.  Is  it  Spanish  ?— Italian  V— Carib  V— an  Invention 
of  West  Indian  Spanish  conquerors  ?  None  of  these  questions  meet  an 
answer  in  the  form  of  hearty  assertion.  In  the  American  Journal  of 
Philology  (October,  1882),  Professor  Harrison,  of  Washington  and  Lee 
University,  Virginia,  after  exhausting  Littre  on  the  subject,  says  of 
Skeat,  that  "He  proceeds  with  agile  pen— dashes,  abbreviations,  e<iua- 
tion  lines— to  deduce  the  word,  though  with  many  misgivings,  from  the 
Spanish  crioUo,  a  native  of  America  or  the  West  Indies ;  a  corrui)t  word 
made  by  the  negroes,  said  to  be  a  contraction  of  rriadillo,  diminutive  of 
crmfo—oue  educated,  instructed  or  bred  up,  pp.  of  criar,  lit.  to  create, 
also  to  nurse,  instruct." 


42  TJIE   CIJKOLES   OF   LOUISIAXA. 

saw  tlie  money  value  of  so  Iioiiored  a  title,  and  broadened 
its  meaning  to  take  in  any  creature  or  thing  of  variety  or 
manufacture  peculiar  to  Louisiana  that  might  become  an 
object  of  sale:    as  Creole  ponies,  chickens,  cows,  shoes, 
eggs,  wagons,  baskets,  cabbages,  negroes,   etc.      Yet  the 
Creoles  pi-uper  will  not  share  their  distinction  with  the 
worthy  "Acadian."     He    is  a  Creole  only  by  courtesy, 
and  in  the  second  person  singular.     JJesides  French  and 
Spanish,  there  are  even,  for  convenience  of  speech,  "col- 
ored"' Creoles;  I)ut  there  are  no  Italian,  or  Sicilian,  nor 
any  English,  Scotch,  Irish,  or  "  Yankee "  Creoles,  unless 
of  parentage   married  into,   and   themselves   thoroughly 
proselyted  in,  Creole  society.    Xeither  Spanish  nor  Amer- 
ican domination  has  taken  from  the  Creoles  their  French 
vernacular.     This,  also,  is  part  of  their  title  ;  and,  in  tine, 
there  seems  to  be  no  more  serviceable  definition  of  the 
Creoles  of  Louisiana  than  this:  that  they  are  the  French- 
speaking,  native  portion  of  the  ruling  class. 

There  is  no  need  to  distinguish  between  the  higher  and 
Innnbler  grades  of  those  from  whom  they  sprang.  A  few 
settlers  only  were  jiersons  of  j-aidc  and  station.  Many 
were  the  children  t)f  the  casket-girls,  and  many  were  of 
such  stock  as  society  pronounces  less  than  nothin<»-  •  vet 
in  view  of  that  state  of  society  which  the  French  revolu- 
tion later  overturned,  any  present  overj^lus  of  honor  may 
as  well  fall  to  the  children  of  those  who  tilled  the  prisons 
before,  as  of  those  mIio  filled  them  during  that  bloody 
convulsion. 


THE   FIRST  CKEOLES.  45 

In  the  days  of  Do  Vaudreuil,  the  dwellings  of  the  bet- 
ter class  that  had  stood  at  first  on  the  immediate  front 
of  the  town,  or  on  the  first  street  behind,  seem  to  Iiave 
drawn  back  a  square  or  two.     They  were  also  spreading 
toward  and  out  through  a  gate  in  the  palisade  wall  near 
its  north  corner.     Bayou  lload,  now  a  street  of  the  city, 
issued  from  this  gate  northward  to  the  village  and  bayou 
of  St.  John.     Along  this  suburban  way,  surrounded  by 
broad  grounds,  deeply  shaded  with  live-oaks,  magnolias, 
and  other  evergreen  forest  trees,  and  often  having  behind 
them  plantations  of  indigo  or  myrtle,  rose  the  wide,  red- 
roofed,  but  severely  plain  dwellings  of  the  rich,  generally 
of  one  or  one  and  a  half  stories,  but  raised  on  pillars 
often  fifteen  feet  from  the  ground,  and  surrounded  by 
wide  verandas. 

In  the  lofty  halls  and  spacious  drawing-rooms  of  these 
liomes— frequently,  too,  in  the  heart  of  the  town,  in  the 
houses  of  the  humblest  exterior,  their  low,  sin<-le-storv 
wooden  or  brick  walls  rising  from  a  ground  but  partly 
drained  even  of  its  storm  water,  infested  with  reptile  life 
and  frequently  overflowed— was  beginning  to  be  shown  a 
splendor  of  dress  and  personal  adornment  hardly  in  har- 
mony with  the  rude  simplicity  of  apartments  and  furni- 
ture, and  scarcely  to  be  expected  in  a  town  of  unpaved, 
unlighted,  and  often  impassable  streets,  surrounded  by 
swamps  and  morasses  on  one  of  the  wildest  of  iVmerican 
frontiers. 

Slaves— not  always  or  generally  the  dull,  ill-featured 


46  TIIK   CUEOLES   OF    LOUISIANA. 

Congo  or  fierce  l>anbara,  imported  for  the  plantations,  but 
comely  Yaloff  and  Mandingo  boys  and  girls,  tlie  shapelier 
for  their  scanty  dress — waited  on  every  caprice,  whether 
good  or  ill,  and  dropped  themsehx's  down  in  the  corridors 
and  on  the  veranda§  for  stolen  naps  among  the  dogs,  and 
whi})s  and  saddles,  in  such  odd  moments  of  day  or  night  as 
found  •their  masters  and  mistresses  tired  of  being  served. 
Tsew  Orleans  had  been  the  one  colonized  spot  in  the  Delta 
where  slaves  were  few,  but  now  they  rapidly  ])ecame 
numerous,  and  black  domestic  service  made  it  easy  for  the 
Creoles  to  ennilate  the  ostentatious  livmg  of  the  colonial 
officials. 

To  their  bad  example  in  living,  these  dignitaries,  almost 
without  exception,  added  that  of  corruption  in  office. 
Governors,  royal  commissaries,  post-commandants, — the 
Marchioness  de  Yaudreuil  conspicuously, — and  many 
lesser  ones,  stood  boldly  accusing  and  accused  of  the 
grossest  and  the  pettiest  misdemeanors.  Doubtless  the 
corruption  was  exaggerated  ;  yet  the  testimony  is  official, 
abundant,  and  corroborative,  and  is  verified  in  the  ruinous 
expenses  which  at  length  drove  France  to  abandon  the 
maintenance  and  sovereignty  of  the  colony  she  had  mis- 
governed for  sixty-three  years. 

Meanwhile,  public  morals  were  debased ;  idleness  and 
intemperance  were  general ;  speculation  in  the  depreciated 
paper  money  which  Hooded  the  colony  became  the  prin- 
cipal business,  and  insolvency  the  common  condition. 

Religion  and  education  made  poor  headway.     Almost 


■^- 


T^^        ^ 


^. 


Old  Canal  in  Dauphine  Street 


-v 


TlIK   FIRST   CKKOLES.  49 

the  only  item  in  their  Ijistory  is  a  "  war  of  the  Jesuits  and 
Capuchins."  Its  "  acrimonious  writings,  squibs,  and  pas- 
quinades "  made  nmch  heat  for  years.  Its  satirical  songs 
were  Ireard,  it  appears,  in  the  drawing-rooms  as  well  as  in 
the  street ;  for  the  fair  sex  took  sides  in  it  with  lively 
zeal.  In  July,  1703,  the  Capuchins  were  left  masters  of 
the  lield.  The  decree  of  the  French  parliament  had  the 
year  before  ordered  the  Jesuits'  expulsion  from  the 
realm ;  their  wide  plantations  just  beyond  the  town  wall 
being  desirable,  the  Creole  "Superior  Council"  became 
bold,  and  the  lands  already  described  as  the  site  of  the 
richest  district  in  the  present  ^Xew  Orleans  were  confis- 
cated and  sold  for  $180,000. 

In  this  same  year,  a  flag,  not  seen  there  before,  began 
to  appear  in  the  yellow  harbor  of  ]S'ew  Orleans.  In  Feb- 
ruary, a  treaty  between  England,  France,  and  Spain,  gave 
Great  Britain  all  that  innnense  part  of  the  Mississippi 
Valley  east  of  the  river  and  north  of  Orleans  Island.  The 
Delta  remained  to  France  and  to  her  still  vast  province  of 
Louisiana.  The  navigation  of  the  Mississippi  was  made 
free  to  the  subjects  of  both  empires  alike.  Trade  Avith 
British  vessels  was  forbidden  the  French  colonies ;  yet  a 
lively  commerce  soon  sprang  up  with  them  at  a  point  just 
above  the  plantations  of  the  dispossessed  Jesuits,  after- 
ward the  river  front  of  the  city  of  Lafayette,  and  now  of 
the  Fourth  District  of  New  Orleans.  Here  numerous 
trading  vessels,  sailing  under  the  British  flag,  ascending 
the  river  and  passing  the  town  on  the  pretext  of  visiting 
4 


50  THE   CliEOLKS   OF   LOUISIANA. 

the  new  Hiitisli  posts  of  Manchac  uiul  P>aton  Kouge, 
tied  to  the  waterside  willows  and  carried  on  a  conmierce 
with  the  merchants  of  the  post  they  had  jnst  passed  by. 

The  corrupt  authorities  winked  at  a  i)ractice  that 
brouglit  wealth  to  all,  and  the  getting  of  lionest  rights  by 
disingenuous  and  dishonest  courses  became  the  justified 
habit  of  the  highest  classes  and  the  leading  minds.  The 
shive  trade,  too,  received  an  unfortunate  stimulus :  a  large 
business  was  done  at  this  so-called  "  Little  Manchac,"  iu 
Guinea  negroes,  whom  the  colonists  bought  of  the  Eng- 
lish. 

The  governor  of  Louisiana  at  this  time  was  Kerlerec,  a 
distinguished  captain  in  the  French  navy.  He  had  suc- 
ceeded the  Marquis  in  1758,  and  had  now  governed  the 
province  for  ten  years.  But  he  had  lately  received  orders 
to  return  to  France  and  render  account  of  his  conduct  in 
office.  A  work  of  retrenchment  was  begun.  The  troops 
were  reduced  to  three  hundred.  In  June,  a  M.  d' Abba- 
die  landed  in  New  Orleans,  commissioned  to  succeed  the 
governor  mider  the  shorn  honors  and  semi-commercial 
title  of  director-general.  Kerlerec,  sailing  to  France,  was 
east  into  the  Bastile  and  "  died  of  grief  shortly  after  his 
release." 

The  Creoles  noted,  with  much  agitation,  these  and 
other  symptoms  of  some  unrevealed  design  to  alter  their 
political  condition.  By  and  by,  rumor  of  what  had  se- 
cretly been  transacted  began  to  reach  their  ears  in  the 
most  offensive  shape.     Yet,   for  a  time,  M.  d'Abbadie 


TIIK    FIUST   CUKOLKS.  51 

JiiiuseJf  remained  officially  as  uninfonned  as  they;  and 
it  was  only  in  October,  1754,  twenty-tliree  niontli/after 
tiie  signi^ig  of  a  secret  act  at  Fontainebleau,  that  the  au- 
thoritative announcement  reached  Aew  (Jrleans  of  lier 
cession,  with  all  of  French  Louisiana,  to  the  King  of 
Spain. 

Such  is  the  origin,  surrounding  influences,  and  resultin<r 
character  and  life  of  the  earliest  (^reoles  of  Louisiana! 
AVith  many  influences  against  them,  they  rose  from  a 
chaotic  condition  below  the  plane  of  social  order  to  the 
station  of  a  proud,  freedom-loving,  agricultural,  and  com- 
mercial people,  who  were  now  about  to  strike  the  flrst 
armed  blow  ever  aimed  by  Americans  against  a  royal  de- 


creo 


Their  descendants  would   be   a  comnumity  still  more 
unique  than  they  arc,  had  they  not  the  world-wide  trait  of 
a  pride  of  ancestry.     B„t  they  might  as  easily  be  excused 
for  boasting  of  other  things  which  they  have  overlooked. 
A  pride  of  ascent  would  be  as  well  grounded  ;  and  it  will 
be  pleasant  to  show  in  later  chapters  that  the  decadence 
imputed  to  them,  sometimes  even  by  themselves,  lias  no 
foundation   in   fact,   but   that   their   course,  instead,  has 
been,  m  the  main,  upward  from  lirst  to  last,  and  so  con- 
tinues  to-day. 


VII. 

PRAYING  TO  THE  KING. 

J^  SIXGLE  paragrapli  in  recapitulation. 

In  1699,  France,  hy  the  Land  of  l.er  gallant 

n  17,.  ,    7    r  '""'""^   ""  ^'"''^''<'^'  ^o'^™- 
In  1T18,  ]„s  brother,  Bienville,  laid  ont  the  little  paral- 

lelogram  of  streets  and  ditches,  and  palisaded  lots  which 

forn^d  .New  Orleans.    Here,  amid  the  willow-jungles  of 

he  M,ss,ss,ppi's  low  banks,  under  the  glaring  sunshine  of 

l.ayo„  clearings,  in  the  dark  shadows  of  the  Delta's  wet 

forests,  the  Louisiana  Creoles  came  into  e.xistence-val- 

orous,  unlettered,  and   unrestrained,  as  military  ontpost 

I.fe  an  such  a  land  might  make  them.    In  sentiment  they 

were  loyal  to  their  king;  in  principle,  to  themselves  and 

hea.  sod.    Sixty-three  years  had  passed,  with  floods  and 

fannnes  and  Indian  wars,  corrupt  u.isgovernment  and  its  re- 

snitant  distresses,  when  in  1702  it  suited  the  schemes  of  an 

unprmcipledcourt  secretly  to  convey  the  nnprofitablecolony 

-land  and  people,  all  and  sing„lar-to  the  King  of  Spain 

In  the  early  summer  of  1764,  before  the  news  of  this 

un  eehng  barter  had  startled  the  ears  of  the  colonists,  a 

eertam  class  n.  New  Orleans  had  begun  to  n.ake  formal 


PRAYING   TO   THE   KING.  68 

complaint  of  a  condition  of  affairs  in  their  sorry  little 
town  (commercial  and  financial  rather  than  political)  that 
seemed  to  them  no  longer  bearable.  There  had  been 
commercial  development;  but,  in  the  light  of  their  griev- 
ances, this  only  showed  through  what  a  debris  of  public 
disorder  the  commerce  of  a  country  or  town  may  make  a 
certain  progress. 

These  petitioners  were  the  merchants  of  New  Orleans. 
Tiieir  voice  was  now  heard  for  the  first  time.     Tlie  pri- 
vate material  interests  of  the  town  and  the  oppressions  of 
two  corrupt  governments  were  soon  to  come  to  an  open 
struggle.     It  was  to  end,  for  the  Creoles,  in  ignominy  and 
disaster.     But  in  better  years  further  on  there  was  a  time 
in  store  when  arms  should  no  longer  overawe;  but  when 
commerce,  instead,  was  to  rule  the  destinies,  not  of  a 
French  or  Spanish  military  post,  but  of  the  great  south- 
ern  sea-port  of  a  nation  yet  to  be.     Meanwhile  the  spirit 
of   independence  was    stirring   within   the    inhabitants. 
They  scarcely  half  recognized  it  themselves  (there  is  a 
certain  unconsciousness  in  truth   and   right) ;    but  their 
director-general's  zeal  for  royalty  was  chafed. 

"  As  I  was  finishing  this  letter,"  wrote  M.  d'Abbadie, 
"  the  merchants  of  New  Orleans  presented  me  with  a 
petition,  a  copy  of  which  I  have  the  honor  to  forwaid. 
You  will  find  in  it  those  characteristic  features  of  sedjiion 
and  insubordination  of  which  I  complain." 

A  few  months  later  came  word  of  the  cession  to  Spain. 
The  people  refused  to  believe  it.    It  was  nothing  that  the 


54  THE   CREOLES   OF  LOUISIANA. 

king's  letter  directly  stated  the  fact.  It  was  nothing  that 
official  instructions  to  M.  d'Abbadie  as  to  the  manner  of 
evacuating  and  surrendering  the  province  Mere  full  and 
precise.  It  was  nothing  that  copies  of  the  treaty  and  of 
Spain's  letter  of  acceptance  were  spread  out  in  the  council 
chamber,  where  the  humblest  white  man  could  go  and 
read  them.  Such  perfidy  was  simply  incredible.  The 
transfer  ')nust  be  a  make-believe,  or  they  were  doomed  to 
bankruptcy — not  figuratively  only,  but,  as  we  shall  pres- 
ently see,  literally  also. 

So,  when  doubt  could  stay  no  longer,  hope  took  its 
place — the  hope  that  a  prayer  to  their  sovereign  might 
avert  the  consummation  of  the  treatj^  which  had  already 
been  so  inexplicably  delayed.  On  a  certain  day,  there- 
fore, early  in  1765,  there  was  an  imposing  gathering  on 
that  Place  d'Armes  already  the  place  of  romantic  remin- 
iscences. The  voice  of  the  people  was  to  be  heard  in 
advocacy  of  their  rights.  Xearly  all  the  notables  of  the 
town  were  present ;  planters,  too,  from  all  the  nearer 
parts  of  the  Delta,  with  some  of  the  superior  council  and 
other  officials — an  odd  motley  of  lace  and  fiannel,  pow- 
dered wigs,  buckskin,  dress-swords,  French  leather,  and 
cow-hide.  One  Jean  Milhet  was  there.  Uq  was  the 
wealthiest  merchant  in  the  town.  He  had  signed  the 
petition  of  the  previous  June,  with  its  "  features  of  sedi- 
tion and  insubordination."  And  he  was  now  sent  to 
France  with  this  new  prayer  that  the  king  would  arrange 
with  Spain  to  nullify  the  act  of  cession. 


PRAYING  TO  THE   KINO.  55 

Milhet,  in  Paris,  sought  out  Bienville.  But  the  ex-gov- 
ernor of  the  province  and  unsuccessful  campaigner  against 
its  Indian  foes,  in  his  eighty-sixth  year,  was  fated  to  fail 
once  more  in  his  effort  to  serve  Louisiana.  They  sought 
together  the  royal  audience.  But  the  minister,  the  Due 
de  Choiseul  (the  transfer  had  been  part  of  his  policy) 
adroitly  barred  the  way.  They  never  saw  the  king,  and 
their  mission  was  brought  to  naught  with  courteous  des- 
patch. Such  was  the  word  Milhet  sent  back.  But  a 
hope  without  foundations  is  not  to  be  undermined.  The 
Creoles,  in  1TC(>,  heard  his  ill-tidings  without  despair,  and 
fed  their  delusion  on  his  continued  stay  in  France  and  on 
the  non-display  of  the  Spanish  authority. 

By  another  treaty  Great  I^ritain  had  received,  as  already 
mentioned,  a  vast  territory  on  the  eastern  side  of  the 
Mississippi.  This  transfer  was  easier  to  understand.  The 
Englisli  had  gone  promptly  into  possession,  and,  much  to 
the  mental  distress  of  the  acting-governor  of  Louisiana, 
M.  Aubry  (M.  d'Abbadie  having  died  in  1765),  were  mak- 
ing the  harbor  of  New  Orleans  a  highway  for  their  men- 
of-war  and  transports,  while  without  ships,  anmmnition, 
or  money,  and  with  only  a  few  soldiers,  and  they  entitled 
to  their  discharge,  he  awaited  Spain's  languid  receipt  of 
the  gift  which  had  been  made  her  only  to  keep  it  from 
these  very  English. 

liut,  at  length,  Spain  moved,  or  seemed  about  to  move. 
Late  in  the  summer  a  letter  came  to  the  superior  council 
from  Havana,  addressed  to  it  by  Don  Antonio  de  Ulloa,  a 


56  THE   CREOLES   OF   LOUISIANA. 

commodore  in  the  Spanish  navy,  a  scientific  scholar  and 
autlior  of  renown,  and  now  revealed  as  the  royally  com- 
missioned governor  of  Louisiana.  This  letter  announced 
that  Don  Antonio  would  soon  arrive  in  New  Orleans. 

Here  was  another  seed  of  cruel  delusion.  For  month 
after  month  went  by,  the  year  closed,  January  and  Feb- 
ruary, 1766,  came  and  passed,  and  the  new  governor  had 
not  made  his  appearance.  Surely,  it  seemed,  this  was  all 
a  mere  diplomatic  manceuver.  But,  when  the  delay  had 
done  as  nmch  harm  as  it  could,  on  the  5th  of  March, 
1766,  Ulloa  landod  in  New  Orleans.  He  brought  with 
him  only  two  companies  of  Spanish  ii  Jantry,  his  Govern- 
ment having  taken  the  assurance  of  France  that  more 
troops  would  not  be  needed. 


VIII. 

ULLOA,  AUBRY,  AND  THE  SUPERIOR  COUNCIL. 

^  I  ^11 E  cession  had  now  only  to  go  into  effect.  It  seemed 
to  tlie  Louisianians  a  sentence  of  conuiiercial  and 
industrial  annihilation,  and  it  was  this  belief,  not  loyalty 
to  France,  that  furnished  the  true  motive  of  the  Creoles 
and  justification  of  the  struggle  of  17C8.  The  merchants 
were,  therefore,  its  mainspring.  But  merchants  are  not 
apt  to  be  public  leaders.  They  were  behind  and  under  the 
people.  Who,  then,  or  what,  was  in  front  ?  An  official 
body  whose  growth  and  power  in  the  colony  had  had  great 
influence  in  forming  the  public  character  of  the  Creoles 
— the  Superior  Council. 

It  was  older  than  New  Orleans.  Formed  in  1712  of 
but  two  members,  of  whom  the  governor  was  one,  but 
gradually  enlarged,  it  dispensed  justice  and  administered 
civil  government  over  the  whole  colony,  under  the  ancient 
"  custom  of  Paris,"  and  the  laws,  edicts,  and  ordinances 
of  the  kingdom  of  France.  It  early  contained  a  germ  of 
popular  government  in  its  power  to  make  good  the  want 
of  a  quorum  by  calling  in  notable  inhabitants  of  its  own 
selection.     By  and  by  its  judicial  functions  had  become 


58  THE   CREOLES   OF   LOUISIANA . 

purely  appellate,  and  it  took  on  features  suggestive,  at 
least,  of  representative  rule. 

It  was  this  Superior  Council  which,  in  1722,  with  Bien- 
ville at  its  head,  removed  to  the  new  settlement  of  New 
Orleans,  and  so  made  it  the  colony's  capital.  In  1723,  it 
was  exercising  powers  of  police.  It  was  by  this  body 
that,  in  1724,  was  issued  that  dark  enactment  which, 
throuffh  the  dominations  of  three  successive  national 
powers,  remained  on  the  statute-book — the  Black  Code. 
One  of  its  articles  forbade  the  freeing  of  a  slave  without 
reason  shown  to  the  Council,  and  by  it  esteemed  good.  In 
1726,  its  too  free  spirit  was  already  receiving  the  repri- 
mand of  the  home  government.  Yet,  in  172S,  the  king 
assigned  to  it  the  supervision  of  land  titles  and  power  to 
appoint  and  remove  at  will  a  lower  court  of  its  own  mem- 
bers. 

AV^ith  each  important  development  in  the  colony  it  had 
grown  in  numbers  and  powers,  and,  in  1748,  especially, 
had  been  given  discretionary  authority  over  land  titles, 
such  as  must  have  been  a  virtual  control  of  the  whole  ag- 
ricultural connnunity's  moral  support.  '  About  1752  it  is 
seen  resisting  the  encroachments  of  the  Jesuits,  though 
these  were  based  on  a  commission  from  the  Bishop  of 
Quebec;  and  it  was  this  body  that,  in  1763,  boldly  dis- 
possessed this  same  order  of  its  plantations,  a  year  before 
the  home  government  expelled  it  from  France.  In  1758, 
with  Kerlerec  at  its  head,  this  Council  had  been  too  strong 
for  Ilochemore,  the  intendant-commissary,  and  too  free — 


ULLOA,   AriniY,   AXn  THE  SUPERIOR  COUNCIL.         50 

jostled  liim  rudely  for  tliree  years,  and  then  procured  of 
the  king  his  dismissal  from  office.  And  lastly,  it  was  this 
body  that  d'Abbadie,  in  another  part  of  the  despatch 
already  quoted  from,  denounced  as  seditious  in  spirit, 
urging  the  displacement  of  its  Creole  members,  and  the 
tilling  of  their  seats  with  imported  Frenchmen. 

Ulloa,  the  Spanish  governor,  stepped  ashore  on  the 
Place  d'Armes  in  a  cold  rain,  with  that  absence  of  ])omp 
which  characterizes  both  the  sailor  and  the  recluse.  Tlie 
people  received  him  in  cold  and  haughty  silence  that  soon 
turned  to  aggression.  Foucault,  the  intendant-connnis- 
sary,  was  the  first  to  move.  On  the  very  day  of  the  gov- 
ernor's arrival  lie  called  his  attention  to  the  French  paper 
money  left  unprovided  for  in  the  province.  There  were 
seven  million  livres  of  it,  worth  only  a  fourth  of  its  face 
value.  "What  -was  to  be  done  about  it  ?"  The  governor 
answered  promptly  and  kindly  :  It  should  be  the  circulat- 
ing medium  at  its  market  value,  pending  instructions 
from  Spain.  But  the  people  instantly  and  clamorously 
took  another  stand  :  It  must  be  redeemed  at  par. 

A  few  days  later  he  was  waited  on  by  the  me '-chants. 
They  presented  a  series  of  written  questions  tcuching 
their  connnercial  interests.  They  awaited  his  answers, 
they  said,  in  order  to  know  hoiu  to  direct  their  future 
actions.  In  a  despatch  to  his  government,  Ulloa  termed 
the  address  "  imperious,  insolent,  and  menacing." 

The  first  approach  of  the  Superior  Council  was  quite  as 
offensive.     At  the  head  of  this  body  sat  Aubry.     lie  was 


60  THE   CREOLES   OF    LOUISIANA. 

loyal  to  his  king,  brave,  and  determined  to  execute  the 
orders  he  held  to  transfer  the  province.     The  troops  were 
under  his  command.     But,  by  the  rules  of  the  Council  it 
was  the  intendant,  Foucault,  the  evil  genius  of  the  hour, 
who   performed   the  functions  of  president.      Foucault 
ruled  the  insurgent  Council  and  signed  its  pronunciamien- 
tos,   while   Aubry,    the   sternly   protesting    but   helpless 
governor,  filled  the  seat  of  honor.     And   here,  too,  sat 
Lafreniere,   the   attorney-general.     It   was   he   who   had 
harangued    the  notables   and   the   peoj^le   on    the   Place 
d'Armes  when  they  sent  Milhet  to  France.     The  petition 
to  the  king  was  from  his  turgid  pen.     lie  was  a  Creole, 
the  son  of  a  poor  Canadian,  and  a  striking  type  of  the 
people  that  now  looked  to  him  as  their  leader :  of  com- 
manding mien,  luxurious  in  his  tastes,  passionate,  over- 
bearing,   ambitious,     replete    with    wild    energy,    and 
equipped  with  the  wordy  eloquence  that  moves  the  ignor- 
ant or  half-informed.     The  Council  requested  Ulloa  to 
exhibit  his  commission.     He  replied  coldly  that  he  would 
not  take  possession  of  the  colony  until  the  arrival  of  ad- 
ditional Spanish  troops,  which   he  was  expecting;   and 
that  then  his  dealings  would  be  with  the  French  gov- 
ernor, Aubry,  and  not  with  a  subordinate  civil  body. 

Thus  the  populace,  the  merchants,  and  the  civil  govern- 
ment— which  included  the  judiciary— ranged  themselves 
at  once  in  hostility  to  Spain.  The  military  soon  moved 
forward  and  took  their  stand  on  the  same  line,  refusing 
point-blank   to  pass   into   the   Spanish   service.      Aubry 


ULLOA,  AUBKY,  AND  THE  SUPERIOR  (X)rNCIL.         61 

alone  recognized  the  cession  and  Ulloa's  powers,  and  to 
him  alone  L'lloa  showed  his  commission.  Yet  the  Span- 
ish governor  virtually  assumed  control,  set  his  few  Span- 
ish soldiers  to  building  and  garrisoning  new  forts  at  im- 
portant points  in  various  quarters,  and,  with  Aubry, 
endeavored  to  maintain  a  conciliatory  policy  pending  the 
arrival  of  ti'oops.  It  was  a  policy  wise  only  because 
momentarily  imperative  in  dealing  with  such  a  people. 
They  were  but  partly  conscious  t)f  their  rights,  but  they 
were  smarting  under  a  lively  knowledge  of  their  wrongs', 
and  their  impatient  temper  could  brook  any  other  treat- 
ment with  better  dignity  and  less  resentment  than  that 
which  trifled  with  their  feelings. 

Ill-will  began,  before  long,  to  tind  open  utterance.  An 
arrangement  by  which  the  three  or  four  companies  of 
French  soldiei's  remained  in  service  under  Spanish  pay, 
but  under  French  colors  and  Aubry's  command,  was 
fiercely  denounced. 

Illloa  was  a  man  of  great  amiability  and  enlighten- 
ment, but  nervous  and  sensitive.  Kot  only  was  the  de- 
fective civilization  around  him  discordant  to  his  gentle 
tastes,  but  the  extreme  contrast  which  his  personal  char- 
acter offered  was  an  intolerable  offence  to  the  people. 
Yet  he  easily  recognized  that  behind  and  beneath  all  their 
frivolous  criticisms  and  imperious  demands,  and  the  fierce 
determination  of  their  Superior  Council  to  resist  all  con- 
tractions of  its  powers,  the  true  object  of  dread  and  aver- 
sion was  the  iron   tyrannies   and  extortions  of   Spanish 


62  THE   CREOLES    OF   LOUISIANA. 

colonial  revenue  laws.  This  feeling  it  was  that  had  pro- 
duced the  offensive  memorial  of  the  merchants ;  and  yet 
he  met  it  kindly,  and,  only  two  months  after  his  arrival, 
began  a  series  of  concessions  looking  to  the  preservation 
of  trade  with  France  and  the  French  West  Indies,  which 
the  colonists  had  believed  themselves  doomed  to  lose. 
The  people  met  these  concessions  with  resentful  remon- 
strance. One  of  the  governor's  proposals  was  to  fix  a 
schedule  of  reasonable  jirices  on  all  imported  goods, 
through  the  appraisement  of  a  board  of  disinterested  citi- 
zens. Certainly  it  was  unjust  and  oppressive,  as  any 
Spanish  commercial  ordinance  was  likely  to  be ;  but  it 
was  intended  to  benefit  the  mass  of  consumers.  But  con- 
sumers and  suppliers  for  once  had  struck  hands,  and  the 
whole  people  raised  a  united  voice  of  such  grievous  com- 
plaint that  the  ordinance  was  verbally  revoked. 

A  further  motive— the  fear  of  displacement— moved 
the  oflfice-holders,  and  kept  them  maliciously  diligent. 
Every  harmless  incident,  every  trivial  mistake,  was 
caught  up  vindictively.  The  governor's  "  manner  of  liv- 
ing, his  tastes,  his  habits,  his  conversation,  the  most  triv- 
ial occurrences  of  his  household,"  were  construed  offen- 
sively. He  grew  incensed  and  began  to  threaten.  In 
December,  1767,  Jean  Milhet  "returned  from  France.  His 
final  word  of  ill-success  was  only  fuel  to  the  fire.  The 
year  passed  away,  and  nine  months  of  1768  followed. 

Ulloa  and  Aubry  kept  well   together,  though  Aubry 
thought  ill  of  the  Spaniard's  administrative  powers.     In 


ULLOA,  AinniY,  AND  THK  srPKKlou  COTNCIL.         63 

their  own  eyes  they  seemed  to  be  haviiifr  some  success. 
They  were,  wrote  Aubry,  "gradually  molding  Frenchmen 
to  Spanish  domination."'  The  Spanish  flag  floated  over 
the  new  military  posts,  the  French  ensign  over  the  old, 
and  the  colony  seemed  to  be  dwelling  in  peace  under  both 
standards. 

Ihit  Ulloa  and  the  Creoles  were  sadly  apart.  Repeated 
innovations  in  matters  of  commerce  and  police  were  only 
so  many  painful  surprises  to  them.  They  were  embar- 
rassed. They  were  distressed.  What  was  to  become  of 
their  seven  million  livres  of  paper  money  nt)  one  yet  could 
tell.  Even  the  debts  that  the  Spaniards  had  assumed 
were  unpaid.  Values  had  shrunk  sixty-six  per  cent. 
There  was  a  specie  famine.  Insolvency  was  showing  it- 
self on  every  hand  ;  and  the  disasters  that  were  to  follow 
the  complete  establishment  of  Spanish  power  were  not 
known  but  might  be  guessed.  They  returned  the  gov- 
ernor distrust  for  distrust,  censure  for  censure,  and  scorn 
for  scorn. 

And  now  there  came  rumor  of  a  royal  decree  suppress- 
ing the  town's  commerce  with  France  and  the  West 
Indies.  It  was  enough.  The  people  of  Xew  Orleans  and 
its  adjacent  river  "coasts,"  resolved  to  expel  the  Span- 
iards. 


IX. 

THE  INSURRECTION. 

"VTEW  ORLEANS,  in  1T08,  was  still  a  town  of  some 
thirty-two  hundred  persons  only,  a  third  of  whom 
were  black  slaves.  It  had  lain  for  thirty -five  years  in  the 
reeds  and  willows  with  scarcely  a  notable  change  to  re- 
lieve the  poverty  of  its  aspect.  During  the  Indian  wars 
barracks  had  risen  on  either  side  of  the  Place  d'Arnies. 
AVhen,  in  1758,  the  French  evacuated  Fort  Duquesne 
and  floated  down  the  Ohio  and  Mississippi  to  New  Or- 
leans, Kerlerec  added  other  barracks,  part  of  whose  ruin 
still  stands  in  the  neighborhood  of  Barracks  Street.  Sa- 
lients had  been  made  at  the  corners  of  its  palisade  wall ; 
there  was  "  a  banquette  within  and  a  very  trifling  ditch 
without."  Just  beyond  this  wall,  on  a  part  of  the  land  of 
the  banished  Jesuits,  in  a  large,  deeply  shaded  garden, 
was  a  house  that  had  become  the  rendezvous  of  a  con- 
spiracy. 

Lafreni^re  sat  at  the  liead  of  its  board.  His  majestic 
airs  had  got  him  the  nickname  of  "Louis  Quatorze." 
Foucault  was  conspicuous.  His  friendship  with  Madame 
Pradal,  the  lady  of  the  house,  was  what  is  called  notor- 


THE   INSI'IIHECTIOX.  60 

ions.  Jean  Milliet  and  a  brotlier,  Josepli  Milhct,  and 
other  leading  merchants,  Caresse,  Petit,  and  Ponpet,  were 
present ;  also  Doncet,  a  prominent  lawyer,  and  Marqnis,  a 
captain  of  Swiss  troops ;  with  Balthasar  de  Masan,  Hardy 
de  Boisblanc,  and  Joseph  Villere,  planters  and  pnblic 
men,  the  last,  especially,  a  man  of  weight.  And,  as  if 
the  name  of  the  city's  fonnder  mnst  be  linked  with  all 
patriotic  disaster,  among  the  nnmber  were  two  of  Bien- 
ville's nephews— Xoyan,  a  yonng  ex-captain  of  cavalry, 
and  Bienville,  a  naval  lieutenant,  Xoyan's  still  younger 
brother. 

On  the  25th  of  October,  ITCS,  the  mine  was  sprung. 
From  twenty  to  sixty  miles  above  Xew  Or:eans,  on  the 
banks  of  the  Mississippi,  lies  the  Cote  des  Allemantio,  the 
German  coast,  originally  colonized  by  John  Law's  Alsa- 
tians. Here  the  conspirators  had  spread  the  belief  that 
the  Spanish  obligations  due  the  farmers  there  would  not 
be  paid  ;  and  when,  on  the  date  mentioned,  Ulloa  sent  an 
agent  to  pay  them,  he  was  arrested  by  a  body  of  citizens 
under  orders  from  Villere,  and  deprived  of  the  money. 

Just  beyond  the  German  coast  lay  the  coast  of  the 
"  Acadians."  From  time  to  time,  since  the  peace  with 
England,  bands  of  these  exiles  from  distant  Nova  Scotia 
had  found  their  way  to  Louisiana,  some  by  way  of  the 
American  colonies  and  the  Ohio  Kiver,  and  some-many, 
indeed-by  way  of  St.  Domingo,  and  had  settled  on  the 
shores  of  the  Mississippi  above  and  below  the  mouth  of  La 
Fourche  and  down  the  banks  of  that  bayou.     Hardships 


66  THE  CREOLES   OF   LOUISIANA. 

and  afflictions  had  come  to  be  the  salt  of  tlieir  bread,  and 
now  a  last  hope  of  ending  their  days  under  the  flag  for 
whicli  they  had  so  pathetic  an  affection  depended  upon 
the  success  of  this  uprising.     They  joined  the  insurgents. 

On  the  2Tth,  Foucault  called  a  meeting  of  the  Superior 
Council  for  the  2Sth.  In  the  night,  the  guns  at  Tchou- 
pitoulas  gate — at  the  upper  river  corner — were  spiked. 
Farther  away,  along  a  narrow  road,  with  the  wide  and 
silent  Mississippi  now  hidden  by  intervening  brakes  of 
cotton-wood  or  willow  and  now  broadening  out  to  view, 
but  always  on  the  right,  and  the  dark,  wet,  moss-draped 
forest  always  on  the  left,  in  rude  garb  and  with  rude 
weapons — muskets,  fowling  pieces,  anything — the  Ger- 
mans and  Acadians  were  marching  upon  the  town. 

On  the  morning  of  the  2Stli,  they  entered  Tchoupi- 
toulas  gate.  At  the  head  of  the  Acadians  was  Xoyan. 
Yillere  led  the  Germans.  Other  gates  were  forced,  other 
companies  entered,  stores  and  dwellings  were  closed,  and 
the  insurgents  paraded  the  streets.  "All,"  says  Aubry, 
"  was  in  a  state  of  combustion."  The  people  gathered  on 
the  square.  "  Louis  Quatorze  "  harangued  them.  So  did 
Doucet  and  the  brothers  Milhet.  Six  hundred  persons 
signed  a  petition  to  the  Superior  Council,  asking  the 
official  action  which  the  members  of  that  body,  then  sit- 
ting, were  ready  and  waiting  to  give. 

Aubry  had  a  total  force  of  one  hundred  and  ten  men. 
What  he  could  do  he  did.  lie  sent  for  Lafr^niere,  and 
afterward  for  Foucault,  and  protested  bitterly,  but  in  vain. 


THE  IXSURRECTIOIf.  67 

Under  his  protection,  Ulloa  retired  with  his  family  on 

ft/ 

board  the  Spanisli  frigate,  which  liad  slipped   her  cables 
from  the  shore  and  anchored  out  in  the  river.     The  Span- 
ish governor's  staff  remained  in  his  house,  which  they  had 
barricaded,  surrounded  by  an  angry  mob  that  filled  the 
air  with  huzzas  for  the  King  of  France.    The  Council  met 
again  on  the  29th.     A  French  flag  had  been  hoisted  in 
the  Place  d'Armes,  and  a  thousand  insurgents  gathered 
around  it  demanding  the  action  of  the  Council.     As  that 
body  was  about  to  proceed  to  its  final  measure,  Aubry  ap- 
peared before  it,  warning  and  reproaching  its  members. 
Two  or  three  alone  wavered,  but  Lafreniere's  counsel  pre- 
vailed,  and   a  report  was    adopted    enjoining  Ulloa  to 
"  leave  the  colony  in  the  frigate  in  which  he  came,  with- 
out delav." 

Aubry  was  invited  by  the  conspirators  to  resume  the 
government.  His  response  was  to  charge  them  with  re- 
bellion and  predict  their  ruin.  Ulloa,  the  kindest  if  not 
the  wisest  well-wisher  of  Louisiana  that  had  held  the  gu- 
bernatorial commission  since  Bienville,  sailed,  not  in  the 
Spanisli  frigate,  which  remained  "  for  j-epairs,"  but  in  a 
French  vessel,  endi.  -ig  at  the  last  moment  the  songs  and 
jeers  of  a  throng  of  night  re  sterers,  ar.d  the  menacing 
presence  of  sergeants  and  bailiffs  of  the  Council. 


X. 

THE  PRICE  OF  HALF-CONVICTIONS. 

THE  next  move  on  the  part  of  all  concerned  was  to 
hurry  forward  messengers,  with  declarations,  to  the 
courts  of  France  and  Spain.  The  colonists  sent  theirs ; 
Aubry  and  Ulloa,  each,  his ;  and  Foucanlt,  his-a  paper 
characterized  by  a  shameless  double-dealing  which  leaves 
the  intendant-commissary  alone,  of  all  the  participants  in 
these  events,  an  infamous  memory. 

The  memorial  of  the  people  was  an  absurd  confusion  of 
truth  and  misstatement.     It  made  admissions  fatal  to  its 
pleadings.     It  made  r^rogant   announcpinents   of  unap- 
plied principles.     It  enumerated  real  wrongs,  for  which 
France  and  Spain,  but  not  Ulloa,  were  to  blame.     And 
with  these  it  mingled  such  charges  against  the  banished 
governor  as :  That  he  had  a  chapel  in  his  own  house ; 
that  he  absented  himself  from  the  French  churches;  that 
he  enclosed  a  fourth  of  the  public  common  to  pasture  his 
private  horses ;  that  he  sent  to  Havana  for  a  wet-nurse ; 
that  he  ordered  the  abandonment  of  a  brick-yard  near  the 
town,  on  account  of  its  pools  of  putrid  water  ;  that  he  re- 
moved leprous  children  from  the  town  to  the  inhospitable 


THE  PRICE   OF  HALF- COX VICTIOXS.  69 

settlements  at  the  month  of  the  river ;  that  he  forbade 
the  pnblic  whipping  of  slaves  in  the  town ;  that  masters 
had  to  go  six  miles  to  get  a  negro  flogged ;  that  he  had 
landed  in  Xew  Orleans  dnring  a  tlmnder-and-rain  storm, 
and  under  other  ill  omens  ;  that  he  claimed  to  be  king  of 
the  colony  ;  that  he  offended  the  people  with  evidences  of 
sordid  avarice  ;  and  that  he  added  to  these  crimes— as  the 
text  has  it— "many  others,  equally  just  [!]  and  terrible!" 
Xot  less  unhappy  were  the  adulations  offered  the  king, 
who  so  justly  deserved  their  detestation.     The  conspira- 
tors had  at  first  entertained  the  bold  idea  of  declaring  the 
colony's  independence  and  setting  up  a  republic.     To  this 
end  Xoyan  and  his  brother  Bienville,  about  three  months 
befoi-e  the  outbreak,  had  gone  secretly  to  Governor  El- 
liott, at  Pensacola,  to  treat  for  the  aid  of  British  troops. 
In  this  they  failed ;   and,  though  their  lofty  i-esolution, 
M'hich,  by  wiser  leaders,  among  a  people  of  higher  disci- 
pline or  unuer  a  greater  faith  in  the  strength  of  a  just 
cause,  might  have  been  communicated  to  the  popular  will, 
was  not  abandoned,  it  was  hidden,  and  finally  suffocated 
under  a  pretence  of  the  most  ancient  and  servile  loyalty : 
"Great  king,  the  best  of  kings  [Louis  XY.],  father  and 
protector  of  your  subjects,  deign,  sire,  to  receive  into  your 
royal  and  fraternal  bosom  the  children  who  have  no  other 
desire  than  to  die  your  subjects,"  etc. 

The  bearers  of  this  address  were  Le  Sassier,  St.  Lette, 
and  Milhet.  They  appeared  before  the  Due  de  Choiseul 
unsupported ;  for  the  a^red  Bienville  was  dead.    St.  Lette, 


7D  THE   CREOLES   OF    LOUISIANA. 

chosen  because  lie  had  once  been  an  intimate  of  the  duke, 
was  cordially  received.  But  the  deputation  as  a  body  met 
only  frowns  and  the  intelligence  that  the  King  of  Spain, 
earlier  informed,  was  taking  steps  for  a  permanent  occu- 
pation of  the  refractory  province.  St.  Lette  remained  in 
the  duke's  bosom.  Milhet  and  Le  Sassier  returned,  carry- 
ing with  them  ^nly  the  cold  comfoi't  of  an  order  refund- 
ing the  colonial  debt  at  three-fifths  of  its  nominal  value, 
in  five  per  cent,  bonds. 

It  was  the  fate  of  the  Creoles — possibly  a  climatic  re- 
sult— to  be  slack-handed  and  dilatoiy.  Month  after 
month  followed  the  October  uprising  without  one  of  those 
incidents  that  would  have  succeeded  in  the  history  of  an 
earnest  people.  In  March,  17G9,  Foucault  covertly  de- 
serted his  associates,  and  denounced  them,  by  letter,  to 
the  French  cabinet.  In  April  the  Spanish  frigate  sailed 
from  xSew  Orleans.  Three  intrepid  men  (Loyola,  Gay- 
arre,  and  Xavarro),  the  governmental  staff  which  Ulloa 
had  left  in  the  province,  still  remained,  luimolested.  Kot 
a  fort  was  taken,  though  it  is  probable  not  one  could  have 
withstood  assault.  Kot  a  spade  was  struck  into  the 
ground,  or  an  obstruction  planted,  at  any  strategic  point, 
throughout  that  whole  "  Creole "  spring  time  which 
stretches  in  its  exuberant  perfection  from  January  to 
June. 

At  length  the  project  of  forming  a  republic  was  revived 
and  was  given  definite  shape  and  advocacy.  But  priceless 
time  had  been  thrown  away,  the  opportune  moment  had 


THE  PRICE   OF  IIALF-COXVICTIONS.  71 

passed,  an  overwhelming  Spanish  army  and  fleet  was 
approaching,  and  the  spirit  of  the  people  was  paralyzed. 
The  revolt  against  the  injustice  and  oppression  of  two 
royal  powers  at  once,  by  "  the  first  European  colony  that 
entertained  the  idea  of  proclaiming  her  independence," 
was  virtually  at  an  end. 

It  was  the  misfortune  of  the  Creoles  to  be  wantino*  in 
habits  of  mature  thought  and  of  self-control.  They  had 
not  made  that  study  of  reciprocal  justice  and  natural 
rights  which  becomes  men  who  would  resist  tyranny. 
Tiiey  lacked  the  steady  purpose  bred  of  daily  toil.  With 
these  qualities,  the  insurrection  of  1768  mio-ht  have  been 
a  revolution  for  the  overthrow  of  French  and  Spanish 
misrule  and  the  establishment  and  maintenance  of  the 
right  of  self-government. 

The  Creoles  were  valorous  but  unreflecting.  They  had 
the  spirit  of  freedom,  but  not  the  profound  pi-inciples  of 
right  which  it  becomes  the  duty  of  revolutionists  to  assert 
and  struggle  for.  They  arose  fiercely  against  a  confusion 
of  real  and  fancied  grievances,  sought  to  be  ungoverned 
rather  than  self-governed,  and,  following  distempered 
leaders,  became  a  warning  in  their  many-sided  short-sighted- 
ness, and  an  example  only  in  their  audacious  courage. 

They  had  now  only  to  pay  the  penalties  ;  and  it  was  by 
an  entire  inversion  of  all  their  first  intentions  that  they  at 
length  joined  in  the  struggle  which  brought  to  a  vigorous 
birth  that  American  nation  of  which  they  finally  became 
a  part. 


o 


XL 

COUNT  O'REILLY  AND   SPANISH  LAWS. 

:XE  morning  toward  the  end  of  July,  ITCO,  the  peo- 
ple of  Kew  Orleans  were  brought  suddenly  to  their 
feet  by  the  news  that  the  Spaniards  were  at  the  mouth  of 
the  river  in  overwhelming  force.  There  was  no  longer 
any  room  to  postpone  choice  of  action. 

Marquis,  the  Swiss  captain,  with  a  w^iite  cockade  in  his 
hat  (he  had  been  the  leading  advocate  for  a  republic),  and 
Petit,  with  a  pistol  in  either  hand,  came  out  upon  the 
ragged,  sunburnt  grass  of  the  Place  d' Amies  and  called 
upon  the  people  to  defend  their  liberties.  About  a  hun- 
dred men  joined  them  ;  but  the  town  was  struck  motion- 
less with  dismay ;  the  few  who  had  gathered  soon  disap- 
peared, and  by  the  next  day  the  resolution  of  the  leaders 
was  distinctlv  taken,  to  submit.     But  no  one  fled. 

On  the  second  morning  Aubry  called  the  people  to  the 
Place  d' Amies,  promised  the  clemency  of  the  illustrious 
Irishman  who  commanded  the  approaching  expedition, 
and  sent  them  aw^ay,  commanding  them  to  keep  within 
their  homes. 

Lafreniere,  Marquis,  and  Milhet  descended   the  river, 


COUNT   O'kEILLY   and   SPANISH   LAWS.  73 

appeared  before  the  commander  of  the  Spaniards,  and  by 
the  mouth  of  Lafreniere  in  a  submissive  but  brave  and 
manly  address  presented  the  liomage  of  the  people.  The 
captain-general  in  his  reply  let  fall  the  word  seditious. 
Marquis  boldly  but  respectfully  objected.  He  was  ans- 
wered with  gracious  dignity  and  the  assurance  of  ultimate 
justice,  and  the  insurgent  leaders  returned  to  Xew  Or- 
leans and  to  their  homes. 

The  Spanish  fleet  numbered  twenty -four  sail.  For 
more  than  three  weeks  it  slowly  pushed  its  way  around 
the  bends  of  the  Mississippi,  and  on  the  18th  of  August 
it  finally  furled  its  canvas  before  the  town.  Aubry  drew 
up  his  French  troops  with  the  colonial  militia  at  the  bottom 
of  the  Place  d'Armes,  a  gun  was  fired  from  the  flagship 
of  the  fleet,  and  Don  Alexandro  O'Reilly,  accompanied 
by  twenty-six  hundred  chosen  Spanish  troops,  and  with 
fifty  pieces  of  artillery,  landed  in  unprecedented  pomp, 
and  took  formal  possession  of  the  province. 

On  the  21st,  twelve  of  the  principal  insurrectionists 
were  arrested.  Two  days  later  Foucault  was  also  made  a 
prisoner.  One  other.  Brand,  the  printer  of  the  seditious 
documents,  was  apprehended,  and  a  proclamation  an- 
nounced that  no  other  arrests  would  be  made.  Foucault, 
pleading  his  ofl[icial  capacity,  was  taken  to  France,  tried 
by  his  government,  and  thrown  into  the  Bastile.  Brand 
pleaded  his  obligation  as  government  printer  to  print  all 
public  documents,  and  was  set  at  liberty.  Villere  either 
"  died  raving  mad  on  the  day  of  his  arrest,"  as  stated  in 


74  THE  CREOLES   OF   LOUISIANA. 

the  Spanish  official  report,  or  met  his  end  in  the  act  of 
resisting  the  guard  on  board  the  frigate  where  he  had 
been  placed  in  coniinenient.  Lafreniere,  Xoyan,  Caresse, 
Marquis,  and  Joseph  Milhet  were  condemned  to  be 
hanged.  The  supplications  both  of  colonists  and  Spanish 
officials  saved  them  only  from  the  gallows,  and  they  fell 
before  the  fire  of  a  file  of  Spanish  grenadiers. 

The  volley  made  at  least  one  young  bride  at  once  an 
orphan  and  a  widow.  For  the  youthful  DeNoyan  had 
been  newly  wed  to  the  daughter  of  Lafreniere.  Judge 
Gayarre,  in  his  history  of  Louisiana,  tells,  as  a  tradition, 
that  the  young  chevalier,  in  prison  awaiting  execution, 
being  told  that  his  attempt  to  escape  would  be  winked 
fit  by  the  cruel  captain-general,  replied  that  he  would 
live  or  die  w^ith  his  associates,  and  so  met  his  untimely 
end. 

Against  his  young  brother,  Bienville,  no  action  seems 
to  have  been  taken  beyond  the  sequestration  of  his  prop- 
erty. He  assumed  the  title  of  his  unfortunate  brother, 
and  as  the  Chevalier  de  Koyan  and  lieutenunt  of  a  ship 
of  the  line,  died  at  St.  Domingo  nine  years  after.  But 
Petit,  Masan,  Doucet,  Boisblanc,  Jean  Milhet,  and  Pou- 
pet  were  consigned  to  the  Morro  Castle,  Havana,  where 
they  remained  a  year,  and  were  then  set  at  liberty,  but 
were  forbidden  to  return  to  Louisiana  and  were  deprived 
of  their  property.  About  the  same  time  Foucault  was  re- 
leased from  the  Bastile.  The  declaration  of  the  Superior 
Council  was  burned  on  the  same  Place  d'Armes  that  had 


COUNT   O'REILLY   AXD   SPANISH    LAWS 


7.") 


seen  it  first  proclaimed.  Aubry  refused  a  liigli  commis- 
sion in  the  Spanish  army,  departed  for  France,  and  had 
ah-eady  entered  the  Itiver  Gai-onne,  when  ]ie  was  sliip- 
wrecked  and  lost.  "Cruel  Olteilly "— the  captain-gen- 
eral was  justly  named. 


"  Cruel  O'Reilly."     (From  a  miniature  in  possession  of  Hon.  Charles  Gayarre,  of  Louisiana.) 

There  could,  of  course,  be  but  one  fate  for  the  Superior 
Council  as  an  official  body,  and  the  Count  O'Reilly, 
armed  with  plenary  powers,  swept  it  out  of  existence. 
The  cahildo  took  its  place.  This  change  from  French 
rule  to  Spanish  lay  not  i3rincipally  in  the  laws,  but  in  the 
redistribution  of  power.     The  crown,  the  sword,  and  the 


76  THE  CREOLES   OF   LOUISIANA. 

cross  absorbed  the  lion's  share,  leaving  but  a  morsel  to  be 
doled  out,  with  much  form   and  pomp,  to  the  cabildo. 
Very  quaint  and  redolent  with  Spanish  romance  was  this 
body,  which  for  the  third  part  of  a  century  ruled  the 
pettier  destinies  of  the   Louisiana  Creoles.     Therein  sat 
the  six  reyidors,  or  rulers,  whose  seats,  bought  at  first  at 
auction,  were  sold  from  successor  to  successor,  the  crown 
always  coming  in  for  its  share  of  the  price.     Five  of 
them  were  loaded  down  with  ponderous  titles;  the  cdferez 
reed  or  royal  standard  bearer ;  the  alcalde-mayor-])romn- 
cial,  who  overtook  and  tried  offenders  escaped  beyond 
town  limits ;  the  alguazil-mayoi\  with  his  eyo  on  police 
and  prisons;   the  depositario-general,  who  kept  and  dis- 
pensed the  public  stores ;  and  the  recihidor  de  jpenas  de 
camara^  the  receiver  of  fines  and  penalties.     Above  these 
six  sat  four  whom  the  six,  annually  passing  out  of  office, 
elected  to  sit  over  their  six  successors.     These  four  must 
be  residents  and  householders  of  New  Orleans.     No  of- 
ficer or  attache  of  the  financial  department  of  the  realm, 
nor  any  bondsman   of  such,   nor  any   one  aged  under 
twenty-six,  nor  any  new  convert  to  the  Catholic  faith, 
could  qualify.     Two  were  alcaldes  ordinarios,  common 
judges.     In  addition   to  other  duties,  they  held  petty 
courts  at  evening  in  their  own  dwellings,  and  gave  un- 
written decisions ;  but  the  soldier  and  the  priest  were  be- 
yond their  jurisdiction.     A  third  was  sindico-procurador- 
general,  and  sued  for  town  revenues  ;  and  the  fourth  was 
town  treasurer,  the  mayor-domo-de-projmos.    At  the  bot- 


COUNT   O'kEILLY   AND   SPANISH   LAWS.  77 

toiii  of  the  scale  was  the  esail/ano,  or  secretarv,  and  at 
the  top,  the  governor. 

It  was  like  a  crane, — all  feathers.  A  sample  of  its 
powers  was  its  right  to  sell  and  revoke  at  will  the  meat 
monopoly  and  the  many  other  petty  municipal  privileges 
which  characterized  the  Spanish  rule  and  have  hoen 
handed  down  to  the  present  day  in  the  city's  offensive 
license  system.  The  underlying  design  of  the  cabildo's 
creation  seems  to  have  been  not  to  confer,  but  to  scatter 
and  neutralize  power  in  the  hands  of  royal  sub-officials 
and  this  body.  Loaded  with  titles  and  fettered  with 
minute  ministerial  duties,  it  was,  so  to  speak,  the  Superior 
Council  shorn  of  its  locks ;  or  if  not,  then,  at  least,  a  body 
whose  members  recognized  their  standing  as  (juardianH  of 
the  people  and  servants  of  the  king. 

O'Reilly  had  come  to  set  up  a  government,  but  not  to 
remain  and  govern.  On  organizing  the  cabildo,  he  an- 
nounced the  appointment  of  Don  Louis  de  Unzaga,  colonel 
of  the  regiment  of  Havana,  as  goveri  jr  of  the  province, 
and  yielded  him  the  chair.  But  under  his  own  hiirher 
commission  of  captain-general  he  continued  for  a  time  in 
control.  He  had  established  in  force  the  laws  of  Castile 
and  the  Indies  and  the  use  of  the  Spanish  tongue  in  the 
courts  and  the  public  offices.  Those  who  examine  the 
dusty  notarial  records  of  that  day  find  the  baptismal 
names,  of  French  and  Anglo-Saxon  origin,  changed  to  a 
Spanish  orthography,  and  the  indices  made  upon  these  in- 
stead of  upon  the  surnames. 


78  THE  CREOLES   OF   LOUISIANA. 

So,  if  laws  and  government  could  have  done  it,  Loui- 
siana would  have  been  made  Spanish.  But  the  change  in 
the  laws  was  not  violent.  There  was  a  tone  of  severity 
and  a  feature  of  arbitrary  surveillance  in  those  of  Spain  ; 
but  the  principles  of  the  French  and  Spanish  systems  had 
a  connnon  origin.  One  remotely,  the  other  almost  di- 
rectly, was  from  the  Iloman  Code,  and  they  were  point- 
edly similar  in  the  matters  which  seemed,  to  the  Creole, 
of  supreme  impoi'tance, — the  marital  relation,  and  inheri- 
tance. But  it. was  not  long  before  he  found  that  now 
under  the  Spaniard,  as,  earlier,  under  the  French,  the 
laws  themselves,  and  their  administration,  pointed  in  very 
different  directions.  Spanish  rule  in  Louisiana  was  better, 
at  least,  than  French,  which,  it  is  true,  scarcely  deserved 
the  name  of  government.  As  to  the  laws  themselves,  it 
is  worthy  of  notice  that  Louisiana  "  is  at  this  time  the 
only  State,  of  the  vast  territories  acquiied  from  France, 
Spain,  and  Mexico,  in  which  the  civil  law  has  been  re- 
tained, and  forms  a  large  portion  of  its  jurisprudence." 

On  the  29th  of  October,  1770,  O'Reilly  sailed  from 
New  Orleans  with  most  of  his  troops,  leaving  the  Spanish 
power  entirely  and  peacefully  established.  The  force  left 
by  him  in  the  colony  amounted  to  one  thousand  two  hun- 
dred men.  He  had  dealt  a  sudden  and  terrible  blow;  but 
he  had  followed  it  only  with  velvet  strokes.  His  sugges- 
tions to  the  home  government  of  commercial  measures 
advantageous  to  Xew  Orleans  and  the  colony,  were 
many,  and  his  departure  was  the   signal  for  the  com- 


COITNT   O'REILLY   AND   SPANISH   LAWS.  79 

meneement  of  active  measures  intended  to  induce,  if 
possible,  a  cliange  in  the  sentiments  of  the  people,— one 
consonant  with  the  political  changes  he '  had  forced 
upon  them.  Such  was  the  kindlier  task  o£  the  wise  and 
mild  Unzaga. 


c 


XII. 

SPANISH  CONCILIATION. 

PwOZAT— Law— Louis  XV.— Charles  III.— whoever 
at  one  time  or  anotlier  was  the  transatlantic  master 
of  Louisiana  managed  its  affairs  on  the  same  bad  prin- 
ciple :  To  none  of  them  had  a  colony  any  inherent  rights. 
They  entered  into  possession  as  cattle  are  let  into  a  pas- 
ture or  break  into  a  field.     It  was  simply  a  commercial 
venture  projected  in  the  interests  of  the  sovereign's  or 
monopolist's  revenues,  and  restrictions  were  laid  or  indul- 
gences bestowed  upon  it  merely  as  those  interests  seemed 
to  require.     And  so  the  Mississippi  Delta,  until  better 
ideas  could  prevail,  could  not  show  other  than  a  gaunt, 
ill-nourished  civilization.     The  weight  of   oppression,  if 
the  governors   and  other  officers  on  the   spot  had  not 
evaded  the  letter  of  the  royal   decrees  and  taught  the 
Creoles  to  do  the  same,  would  actually  have  crushed  the 
life  out  of  the  province. 

The  merchants  of  New  Orleans,  when  Unzaga  took  the 
jrovernor's  chair,  dared  not  import  from  France  anything 
but  what  the  customs  authorities  chose  to  consider  articles 
of  necessity.    With  St.  Domingo  and  Martinique  they 


SPANISH   COXCILIATIOX.  Ql 

coulcl  only  exchange  lumber  and  grain  for  breadstnffs  and 
wine.     Their  ships  must  be  passported  ;   their   bills  of 
lading  were  offensively  policed  ;  and  these  "  privileges  " 
were  only  to  last  until  Spain  could  supplant  them  by  a 
commerce  exclusively  her  own.     They  Mere  completely 
shut  out  from  every  other  market  in  the  world  except 
certain  specified  ports  of  Spain,  where,  they  complained, 
they  could  not  sell  their  produce  to  advantage  nor  buy 
what  was  wanted  in  the  province.     They  could  employ 
only  Spanish  bottoms  commanded  by  subjects  of  Spain  ; 
these  could  not  put  into  even  a  Spanish-American  inter' 
mediate  port  except  in  distress,  and  then  only  under  oner- 
ous restrictions.     They  were  virtually  throttled  merely  by 
a  rigid  application  of  the  theory  which  had  always  op- 
pressed  them,  and  only  by  the  loose  and  flexible  adminis- 
tration  of  which  the  colony  and  town  had  survived  and 
grown,   while  Anthony   Crozat  had    become    bankrupt, 
Law's  Compagnie  d'Occident  Iiad   b^en  driven  to  other 
fields  of  enterprise,  and  Louis  XV.  had  heaped  up  a  loss 
of  millions  more  than  he  could  pay. 

Ulloa's  banishment  left  a  gate  wide  open  which  a  kind 
of  cattle  not  of  the  Spanish  brand  lost  no  time  in  enter- 
ing- 

^"  I  found  the  English,"  wrote  O'Reilly,  in  October, 
1769,  "in  complete  possession  of  the  commerce  of  the 
colony.  They  had  in  this  town  their  merchants  and 
traders,  with  open  stores  and  shops,  and  I  can  safely  as- 
sert that  they  pocketed  nine-tenths  of  the  money  spent 


82  THE   CItKOLKS   OF   LOUISIANA. 

here.  ...  I  drove  off  all  the  English  traders  and 
the  other  individuals  of  that  nation  whom  I  found  in  this 
town,  and  I  shall  admit  here  none  of  their  vessels."  But 
he  reconnnended  what  may  have  seemed  to  Iiim  a  liberal 
measure, — an  entirely  free  trade  with  Spain  and  Havana, 
and  named  the  wants  of  the  people :  "  flour,  wine,  oil, 
iron  instruments,  arms,  ammunition,  and  every  sort  of 
manufactured  goods  for  clothing  and  other  domestic  pur- 
poses," for  which  they  could  pay  in  "  timber,  indigo,  cot- 
ton, furs,  and  a  small  quantity  of  corn  and  rice." 

Unzaga,  a  mai^  of  advanced  years  and  a  Spaniard  of 
the  indulgent  type,  when  in  1770  he  assumed  control,  saw 
the  colony's  extremity,  and  began  at  once  the  old  policy 
of  meeting  desirable  ends  by  lamentable  expedients.  His 
method  was  double-acting.  lie  procured,  on  the  one 
hand,  repeated  concessions  and  indulgences  from  the 
king,  while  on  the  other  he  overlooked  the  evasion  by  the 
people  of  such  burdens  as  the  government  had  not  lifted. 
The  Creoles  on  the  plantations  took  advantage  of  this 
state  of  affairs.  Under  cover  of  trading  with  the  British 
posts  on  the  eastern  bank  of  the  Mississippi  above  Orleans 
Island,  the  English  traders  returned  and  began  again  to 
supply  the  Creole  planters  with  goods  and  slaves.  Busi- 
ness became  brisk,  for  anything  offered  in  exchange  was 
acceptable,  revenue  laws  were  mentioned  only  in  jest, 
profits  were  large,  and  credit  was  free  and  long.  Against 
the  river  bank,  where  now  stands  the  suburb  of  Gretna, 
lay  moored  (when  they  were  not  trading  up  and  down  the 


SPANISH   CONCILIATIOX.  S3 

shores  of  the  stream)  two  large  floating  warehouses,  fitted 
up  with  counters  and  slieives  and  stocked  with  assorted 
merchandise.     TJie  merchants,  sliut  out  from  tliese  con- 
traband benefits,  complained  loudly  to  irnzaga.     J  Jut  they 
complained  in  vain.     The  trade  went   on,  the  planters 
prospered  ;  the  merchants  gave  them  crop-advances,  and 
they  turned  about   and,  ignoring  their  debt,   broadened 
their  lands  and  bought  additional  slaves  from  the  J3ritish 
traders.     Hereupon  ITnzaga  moved,  and  drawing  upon  his 
large  reserve  of  absolute  power,  gently  but  firmly  checked 
this  imposition. 

Tiic  governor's  qniet  n.le  worked  another  benefit 
AVlule  the  town  was  languishing  under  the  intiietion  of 
so-ealled  concessions  tlmt  were  so  narrowed  by  provisos  aa 
to  he  al„,ost  nentralized,  a  new  oppression  showed  itself. 
The  newly  imported  Spanish  Capnchins  opened  such  a 
crnsade,  not  only  against  their  French  brethren,  bnt  also 
agan.st  certain  customs  which  these  had  long  allowed 
an.ong  the  laity,  that  but  for  Unzaga's  pacific  intervention 
an  exodus  would  have  followed  which  he  feared  „,i.d,t 
<  ven  have  destroyed  the  colony.  ° 

The  province  could  not  bear  two,  and  there  had  already 
been  one.  Under  O'Reilly  so  many  n.erchants  and  me- 
chan.cs  had  gone  to  St.  Domingo  that  just  before  he  left 
he  had  ceased  to  gr,<,nt  p..ssports.  Their  places  were  not 
filled,  and  in  1773  Unzaga  wrote  to  the  Bishop  of  Cuba 
that,  "  There  were  not  in  New  Orleans  and  its  environs 
two  thousand  souls  (possibly  meaning  whites)  of  all  pro- 


84  THE  CREOLES  OF   LOUISIANA. 

fessions  and  conditions,"  and  that  most  of  tliese  were  ex- 
tremely poor. 

But  conciliation  soon  began  to  take  effect.  Commis- 
sions were  eagerly  taken  in  the  governor's  "  regiment  of 
Louisiana,"  where  the  pay  was  large  and  the  sword  was 
the  true  emblem  of  power,  and  the  offices  of  regidor  and 
alcalde  were  by-and-by  occupied  by  the  bearers  of  such 
ancient  Creole  names  as  St.  Denis,  La  Chaise,  Fleurieu, 
Forstall,  Duplessis,  Bienvenue,  Dufossat,  and  Livaudais. 

In  1T76,  Unzaga  was  made  captain-general  of  Caracas, 
and  the  following  year,  left  in  charge  of  Don  Bernardo 
de  Galvcz,  then  about  twenty-one  years  of  age,  a  people 
still  French  in  feeling,  it  is  true,  yet  reconciled  in  a 
measure  to  Spanish  rule. 


XIII. 

THE  AMERICAN  REVOLUTION  ON  THE  GULF  SIDE. 

^^OW,  at  length,  the  Creole  and  the  Anglo-American 
were  to  come  into  active  relation  to  each  other— a 
relation  which,  from  that  day  to  the  present,  has  qualified 
every  public  question  in  Louisiana. 

At  a  happy  moment  the  governorship  of  Unzaga,  a  man 
advanced  in  life,  of  impaired  vision  and  failing  health, 
who  was  begging  to  be  put  on  the  retiree:  list,  gave  place 
to  the  virile  administration  of  one  of  the  most  brilliant 
characters  to  be  seen  in  the  history  of  the  Southwestern 
United  States.     Galvez  was  the  son  of  the  Viceroy  of 
Mexico  and  nephew  of  the  Spanish  secretary  of  state, 
who  was  also  president  of  the  council  of  the  Indies,     lie 
was  barely  grown  to  manhood,  but  he  was  ardent,  engag- 
ing, brave,  fond  of  achievement  and  display,  and,  withal, 
talented  and  sagacious.     Says  one  who  fought  under  him, 
"  He  was  distinguished  for  the  afeability  of  his  manners, 
the  sweetness  of  his  temper,  the  frankness  of  his  charac- 
ter, the  kindness  of  his  heart,  and  his  love  of  justice." 

A  change  now  took  place,  following  the  drift  of  affairs 
in   Europe.     The   French,  instead  of  the  English,  mer- 


80  THE  CIIEOLES   OF   LOUISIANA. 

cliants,  coininamled  the  trade  of  tlic  Missisiiippi.  The 
Jjritisli  traders  found  tlieiii.selvcs  suddenly  treated  witli 
great  rigor.  Eleven  of  their  ships,  richly  laden,  Mere 
seized  by  the  new  governor,  while  he  exceeded  the  letter 
of  the  Franco-Spanish  treaty  in  bestowing  privileges  upon 
the  Frencli.  New  liberties  gave  fresh  value  to  the  trade 
with  French  and  Spanish-American  ports.  Slaves  were 
not  allowed  to  be  brought  thence,  owing  to  their  insurrec- 
tionary spirit ;  but  their  importation  direct  from  Guinea 
was  now  specially  encouraged,  and  presently  the  prohibi- 
tion against  those  of  the  West  Indies  was  removed. 

Galvez  was,  as  yet,  only  governor  ad  into'lm  /  yet,  by 
his  own  proclamation,  he  gave  the  colonists  the  right  to 
trade  with  France,  and,  a  few  days  later,  included  the 
ports  of  the  thirteen  British  colonies  then  waging  that 
war  in  which  the  future  of  the  Creoles  was  so  profound- 
ly, though  obscurely,  involved.  Xew  liberties  were  also 
given  to  traders  with  Spain ;  the  government  became  the 
buyer  of  the  tobacco  crop,  and  a  Frencli  and  Frencli-AVest 
Indian  immigration  was  encouraged. 

But  these  privileges  were  darkly  overshadowed  by  the 
clouds  of  war.  The  English  issued  letters  of  marque 
against  Spanish  commerce,  and  the  French  took  open 
part  in  the  American  revolution.  The  young  governor 
was  looking  to  his  defences,  building  gun-boats,  and 
awaiting  from  his  king  the  word  which  would  enable  him 
to  test  his  military  talents. 

Out  of  these  very  conditions,  so  disappointing  in  one 


THE  AMEiticAx  i:kv(H.t'tion-  on  the  OT'LF  sidk.    87 

direction,  sprang  a  now  tni<le,  of   tlic   greatest  possible 
significance   in   tlie   liistoiy  of   the  i.eople.     Some  eigiit 
years   before,  at   tlie   moment  when  tlie  arrival  of   two 
thousand  six  hundred  Spanish  troops  and  the  non-appear- 
ance of  their  supply-ships  had  driven  the  ])rice  of  pro- 
visions in   Xew  Orleans  almost  to  famine  rates,  a  brig 
entered   port,  from    lialtimore,  loaded  with  Hour.     The 
owner  of  the  cargo  was  one  Oliver  Pollock,     lie  offered 
to  sell  it  to  O'lieilly  on  the  captain-general's  own  terms, 
and  finally  disposed  of  it  to  him  at  fifteen  dollars  a  bar- 
rel, two-thirds  the  current  price.     O'Reilly  rewarded  his 
liberality  with  a  grant  of  free  trade  to  Louisiana  for  his 
life-time.     Such  was  the  germ  of  the  commerce  of  New- 
Orleans  with  the  great  ports  of  the  Atlantic.     In  1770, 
Pollock,  with  a  number  of  other  merchants  from  Xew 
York,    Philadelphia,   and   Boston,   who   had   established 
themselves  in  N'ew  Orleans,  had  begun,  with  the  counte- 
nance of  Galvez,  to  supply,  by  fleets  of  la)-ge  canoes,  arms 
and   ammunition  to  the  American   agents  at  Fort  Pitt 
(Pittsburg).     This  was  repeated  in  1777,  and,  in  1778, 
Pollock  became  the  avowed  agent  of  the  American  Gov- 
ernment. 

Here,  then,  was  a  great  turning-point.  Immigration 
became  Anglo-Saxon,  a  valuable  increase  of  population 
taking  place  by  an  inflow  from  the  Floridas  and  the 
United  States,  that  settled  in  the  town  itself  and  took  the 
oath  of  allegiance  to  Spain.  Tlie  commercial  acquaint- 
ance made  a  few  years  before  with  the  Atlantic  ports  was 


88  THE  CIIEOLES   OF   LOUISIAXA. 

now  extentled  to  the  growing  AVcst,  jurI  to  bo  cut  off 
from  European  sources  of  supply  was  no  longer  a  calamity, 
but  a  lesson  of  that  frugality  and  self-lielp  in  the  domestic 
life  wliich  are  the  secret  of  public  wealth.  Between  St. 
Louis  and  >»ew  Orleans,  Natchitoches  and  Xatchez  (Fort 
Panmure),  there  was  sufficient  diversity  of  products  and 
industries  to  complete  the  circuit  of  an  internal  com- 
merce ;  the  Attakapas  and  Opelousas  prairies  had  been 
settled  by  Acadian  herdsmen  ;  in  1778,  immigrants  from 
the  Canary  Islands  had  founded  the  settlement  of  Vene- 
zuela on  La  Fourche,  Galveztown  on  the  Amite,  and  that 
of  Terre  aux  Banifs  just  below  Xew  Orleans.  A  paper 
currency  supj^lied  the  sometimes  urgent  call  for  a  circu- 
lating medium,  and  the  colonial  tj-easury  warrants,  or  111- 
ercmzanj  were  redeemed  by  receipts  of  specie  from  Vera 
Cruz  often  enough  to  keep  them  afloat  at  a  moderately 
fair  market  value. 

"Were  the  Cj-eoles  satisfied  ?  This  question  was  now  to 
be  practically  tested.  For  in  the  summer  of  1779  Spain 
declared  war  against  Great  Britain.  Galvez  discovered 
that  the  British  were  planning  the  surprise  of  New  Or- 
leans. Under  cover  of  preparations  for  defence  he  made 
haste  to  take  the  offensive.  Only  four  days  before  the 
time  when  he  had  appointed  to  move,  a  hurricane  struck 
the  town,  demolishing  many  houses,  ruining  crops  and 
dwellings  up  and  down  the  river  "  coast,"  and  sinking  his 
gun  flotilla.  Nothing  dismayed,  the  young  commander 
called   the  people  to  their  old  rallying  ground  on  the 


THE  AMERICAN  REVOLT'TIOX  OX  THE  CILF  SIDE.      8$) 

Place  d'Armes,  and  with  a  newly  received  con„„is.sion  in 
oiie  hand  confirmini,.  him   as  governor,  and   J,is  .huwn 
SNvord  in  the  other,  demanded  of  them  to  answer  his  chal- 
lenge:   "Should  he  appear  before  the  cabildo  as  that 
commission  required,   and   take  the  oath  of  governor? 
Should  lie  swear  to  defend  Louisiana  ?    Would  they  stand 
byhnn?"     The  response  was  enthusiastic.     Then    said 
lie,  "Let  them  that  love  me  follow  where  I  lead,''  and  ihe 
Creoles  flocked  around  him   ready  for  his  behest.     Re- 
pairing  his  disasters  as  best  lie  could,  and  hastenin..  his 
ostensibly  defensive   preparations,  he  marched,   on°the 
22d  ot  August,  1779,  against  the  British  forts  on  the  Mis- 
sissippi.    His  force,  besides  the  four  Spanish  officers  who 
ranked  in  turn  below  liim,  consisted  of  one  hundred  and 
seventy    regulars,   three    hundred    and    thirty    recruit, 
twenty  carbineers,  sixty  militia  men,  eighty  free  men-of- 
color,  SIX  hundred  men  from  the  coast  ("  of  every  condi- 
tion  and  color"),  one  hundred   and  sixty  Lidians,  nine 
American    volunteers,   and  Oliver  Pollock.     This  little 
army  of  1,430  men  was  without  tents  or  other  military 
furniture,  or  a  single  engineer.     The  gun  fleet  followed  in 
the  river  abreast  of  their  line  of  inarch,  carrying  one 
twenty-four,  five  eighteen,  and  four  four-pounders:     On 
the  7th  of  September  Fort  Bute  on  Bayou  Manchac,  with 
Its  garrison  of  twenty  men,  yielded  easily  to  the  first  as- 
sault of  the  unsupported   Creole  militia.    The  fort  0*= 
Baton  Rouge  was  found  to  be  very  strong,  armed  with 
thirteen  heavy  guns,  and  garrisoned  by  five  hundred  men 


00  rm<:  ckkolks  of  lokisiana. 

Tlio  tr(>o])s  lK>^t:;o(l  to  1)C  lod  to  tho  ussjuilt;  but  (Jalvez 
landed  Ids  lu'jivy  urtillerv,  erected  Initteries,  uiid  on  tlio 
tilst  of  September,  alter  an  engagement  oE  ten  hours,  re- 
dni'e«l  the  fort.  Its  eapituilation  included  the  surrender  of 
l"\)rt  Panimnv,  with  its  garrison  of  eighty  grenadiers,  a 
])lac'e  that  hv  its  position  woidd  luive  been  very  ditlieult 
<»f  assault.  The  Spanish  gun-lH>ats  captured  in  the  J\Iis- 
t^issippi  and  Manchac  four  schooners,  a  brig,  and  two  cut- 
ters. On  lake  Tontchartrain  an  American  schooner  fitted 
out  at  New  Orleans  captured  an  Knglish  ])rivatcer.  A 
])arty  of  fourteen  Creoles  surprised  an  Knglish  cutter  in 
he  narrow  waters  of  I'ayou  Manchac,  and  rushing  on 
lH)ard  after  their  first  tire,  and  fastening  down  tho 
hatches,  captured  the  vessel  and  her  crew  of  seventy  men. 
The  Creole  nulitia  won  the  generous  praise  of  their  com- 
mander for  discipline,  fortitude  and  ardor;  the  Acadians 
showed  an  impetuous  fury  :  wliilo  the  hulians  presented 
the  renuirkable  spectacle  of  harming  no  fugitives,  and  of 
bearing  in  their  arms  to  (lalvcz,  uninjured,  children  who 
Nvith  their  mothers  had  hid  themselves  in  tlie  woods. 

In  the  following  Februarv,  reiinforced  from  Havana, 
and  commanding  the  devotion  of  his  Creole  militia,  Gal- 
vez  set  sail  down  the  Mississippi,  with  two  thousand  men, 
— regulars,  Creoles,  and  free  blacks — and  issued  from 
that  mouth  of  the  river  known  as  the  Balize  or  Pass  il 
rOutre,  intending  to  attack  Fort  Charlotte,  on  the  Mobile 
Iviver.  His  tieet  narrowly  escaped  total  destruction,  and 
his  landing  on  the  eastern  shore  of  Mobile  Kiver  was  at- 


TJIK  AMKKirAX  liKVOLlTIOX  ON  Till.;  crLF  SIDK.      91 

tended  witl.  so  mud,  c.nfusi^m  a.id  cMnl,aiTuss,„cnt  that 
fov  u  moMicnt  lu'  (•.>Mteini»latod  u  precipitate  retreat  in  tlie 
event  of   a   Hritisii  advance  from    I^ensacola.      J]„t   the 
IJritisli  for  «omc   reason  were  not  prompt,  and  (ialvez 
pushed    forward  to    I<\>rt  Charlotte,  cn-ected  six  batteries 
and  en-a^.ed  tlio  fort,  which  surrendered  on  tlie  J 4th  of 
]\rarch,   to  avoi<l   heing  storn.ed.     A  few  (hiys  later,   the 
iM.ghsh  arriv(Ml  from  Pensacohi  in  nund>ers  sufficient  to 
have  raised  the  siege,  l>ut  with  no  ch..ice  then  hut  to  re- 
turn whence  they  had  con.e.    Galvez,  at  that  time  twenty- 
four  years  of  age,  was  i-ewarded  for  this  acliievement  with 
tlie  rank  of  major-general. 

He   now  conceived   the   project   of   taking  Tensacola. 
J>nt  this  was  an  enterprise  of  altogether  another  magni- 
tude.    Failing  to  secure  rcenforcements  from  Jiavamrhy 
writing  for  them,  he  sailed  to  that  place  in  October,  1780 
to  make  liis  application  in  person,  intending,  if  successful' 
to   move   thence  directly  upon  the  enemy.     Delays  and 
diisappointments  could  not  baffle  him,  and  early  in  March, 
ITSl,  lie  appeared  before  Pensacola  with  a  ship  of  the 
line,  two  frigates,  and  transports  containing  fourteen  hun- 
dred soldiers,  well  furnished  with  artillery  and  ammuni- 
tion.     On  the  IGth  and  17th,  such  troops  as  could   be 
spared  from  Mobile,  and  Don  Estcvan  Miro  from  Kew 
Orleans,  with  the  Louisiana  forces,  arrived  at  the  western 
bank  of  the  Perdido  Kiver ;  and  on  the  afternoon  of  tlie 
ISth,  though  unsupported  by  the  fleet  until  dishonor  was 
staring  its  jealous  commander  in  the  face,  Galvez  moved 


92  THE   CREOLES   OF   LOUISIANA. 

under  hot  fire,  through  a  passage  of  great  peril,  and  took 
up  a  besieging  position. 

The  investing  lines  of  Galvez  and  Miro  began  at  once 
to  contract.     Early  in  April,  their  batteries  and  those  of 
the  fleet  opened  fire  from  every  side.     But  the  return 
fire  of  the  English,  from  a  battery  erected  under  their 
fort,  beat  off  the  fleet,  and  as  week  after  week  wore  on  it 
began  to  appear  that  the  siege  might  be  unsuccessful. 
However,  in  the  early  part  of  May,  a  shell  from  the 
Spaniards  having  exploded  a  magazine  in  one  of  the  Eng- 
lish redoubts,  the  troops  from  Mobile  pressed  quickly  for- 
ward and  occupied  the  ruin,  and  Galvez  was  preparing  to 
storm  the  main  fort,  when  the  English  raised  the  white 
flag.     Thus,  on  the  9th  of  May,  1781,  Pensacola,  with  a 
garrison  of  eight  hundred  men,  and  the  whole  of  "West 
Florida,  was  surrendered  to  Galvez.     Louisiana  had  here- 
tofore been  included  under  one  domination  with  Cuba  ; 
but  now  one  of  the  several  rewards  bestowed  upon  her 
governor  was  the   captain-generalship  of  Louisiana  and 
West  Florida.    He,  however,  sailed  from  St.  Domingo  to 
take  part  in  an  expedition  against  the  Bahamas,  leaving 
Colonel  Miro  to  govern  ad  interim^  and  never  resumed 
the  governor's  chair  in  Louisiana.     In  1785,  the  captain- 
generalship  of  Cuba  was  given  him  in  addition,  and  later 
in  the  same  year,  he  laid  down  these  offices  to  succeed  his 
father,  at  his  death,  as  Viceroy  of  Mexico.   He  ruled  in  this 
office  with  great  credit,  as  well  as  splendor,  and  died  sud- 
denly, in  his  thirty-eighth  year,  from  the  fatigues  of  a  hunt. 


THE  AMEniCAN  REVOLUTION  ON  HIE  GULF  SIDE.      93 
Such  is  a  brief  snm.nary-too  brief  for  full  j„stice-of 
the  aclnevements  of  the  Creoles  under  a  gallant  Spanish 
old,er  an  a,d  of  the  war  for  An,eriean   independence. 
Lndoubtedlythe  motive  of  Spain  was  more  .onspicnous- 
ly  and  exclusively  selfish  than  the  aid  furnislied  by  the 
French;  yet  a  greater  credit  is  due  than  is  popularly  ac- 
corded to  t;.e  help  afforded  in  the  brilliant  e.vploits  of 
Galvez,  discouraged  at  first  by  a  timid  cabildo,  but  sup- 
ported initially,  flually,  and  in  the  beginning  „,ainly,  by 
the  Creoles  of  the  Mississippi  Delta.    The  fact  is  enually 
true,  though  much  overlooked  even  in  Xew  Orleans,  that 
whde  Andi-ew  Jackson  was  yet  a  child  the  city  of  the 
Creoles  had  a  deliverer  from  British  conquest  in  Bern- 
ardo  de  Galve.,  by  whom  the  way  was  kept  open  for  the 
Umted  States  to  stretch  to  the  Gulf  and  to  the  Pacific 


XIV. 

SPANISH  NEW  ORLEANS. 

TN  tliat  city  you  may  go  and  stand  to-day  on  the  spot — 
still  as  antique  and  quaint  as  the  Creole  mind  and 
heart  which  cherish  it, — where  gathered  in  17C5  the 
motley  throng  of  townsmen  and  planters  whose  bold  re- 
pudiation of  their  barter  to  the  King  of  Spain  we  have 
just  reviewed  ;  where  in  ITCS  Lafreniere  harangued  them, 
and  they,  few  in  number  and  straitened  in  purse  but  not 
in  daring,  rallied  in  arms  against  Spain's  indolent  show  of 
authority  and  drove  it  into  the  Gulf.  They  were  the  first 
people  in  America  to  make  open  war  distinctly  for  the 
expulsion  of  European  rule.  But  it  was  not  by  this  epi- 
sode— it  was  not  in  the  wearing  of  the  white  cockade — 
that  the  Creoles  were  to  become  an  independent  republic 
under  British  protection,  or  an  American  State. 

"We  have  seen  them  in  the  following  year  overawed  by 
the  heavy  hand  of  Spain,  and  bowing  to  her  yoke.  We 
have  seen  them  ten  years  later,  under  her  banner  and  led 
by  the  chivalrous  Galvez,  at  Manchac,  at  Baton  llouge,  at 
Mobile,  and  at  Pensacola,  strike  victoriously  and  "  wiser 
than  they  knew  "  for  the  discomfiture  of  British  power  in 


SPANISH  NEW   ORLEANS.  95 

America  and  the  promotion  of  American  independence 
and  unity.  Bnt  neither  was  this  to  bring  them  into  the 
union  of  free  States.  For  when  the  United  States  becan.e 
a  nation  the  Spanish  ensign  stiil  floated  from  the  flacr-staff 
m  the  Plaza  de  Armas  where  "  Cruel  O'KeiU j  "  l,ad  lioisted 
It,  and  at  wliose  base  tlie  colonial  council's  declaration  of 
rights  and  wrongs  had  been  burned.  There  was  much  more 
to  pass  through,  many  events  and  conditions,  before  the 


r^^K^K"^ 


hand  of  tonisiana  should  be  nnclasped  from  the  hold  of 
distant  powers  and  placed  in  that  of  the  A.ncrican  States. 
Througli  all,  New  Orleans  continued  to  be  the  key  of 
the  land  and  river  and  of  all  questions  concerning  then.. 
A  glance  around  the  old  square,  a  walk  into  any^  of  the 
streets  that  run  from  it  north,  east,  or  south,  shows  the 
dark  unprint  of  the  hand  that  held  the  town  and  province 
nnt.1  neither  arms,  nor  guile,  nor  counterplots,  nor  bribes 
could  hold  them  back  from  a  destiny  that  seemed  the  ap-' 
pointment  of  nature. 


90  THE   CHEOLES   OF   LOUISIANA. 

For  a  while,  under  Unzaga  and  Galvez,  the  frail  wooden 
town  of  thirty-two  hundred  souls,  that  had  been  the  cap- 
ital under  French  domination,  showed  but  little  change. 
But  17S3  brought  peace.  It  brought  also  Miro's  able  ad- 
ministration, new  trade,  new  courage,  "  forty  vessels  [in 
the  river]  at  the  same  time,"  and,  by  1788,  an  increase  in 
number  to  fifty-three  hundred.  In  the  same  year  came 
the  great  purger  of  towns — fire. 

Don  Vicente  Jose  I^ufiez,  the  military  treasurer,  lived 
in  Chartres  Street,  near  St.  Louis,  and  had  a  private 
chapel.  On  Good  Friday,  the  21st  of  March,  the  wind 
was  very  high  and  from  the  south,  and,  either  from  a  fall- 
ing candle  of  the  altar,  or  from  some  other  accident  or 
inadvertence,  not  the  first  or  the  worst  fire  kindled  by 
Spanish  piety  flared  up  and  began  to  devour  the  in- 
flammable town.  The  people  were  helpless  to  stop  it. 
The  best  of  the  residences,  all  the  wholesale  stores,  fell 
before  it.  It  swept  around  the  north  of  the  plaza,  broad- 
ening at  every  step.  The  town  hall,  the  arsenal,  the 
jail — the  inmates  of  which  were  barely  rescued  alive 
— the  parish  church,  the  quarters  of  the  Capuchins,  dis- 
appeared. In  the  morning  the  plaza  and  the  levee 
were  white  with  tents,  and  in  the  smoldering  path  of 
the  fire,  the  naked  chimneys  of  eight  hundred  and  fifty- 
six  fallen  roofs  stood  as  its  monuments.  The  buildings 
along  the  immediate  riverfront  still  remained ;  but 
nearly  half  the  town,  including  its  entire  central  part,  lay 
in  ashes. 


\'^'ir^.''->; 


n 


c 
o 


> 

3 

o 
a 
fit 

a 

n 


o 

o 
3 
a 


SPANISH   NEW   OHLKAXS.  99 

Another  SpaiiianVs  name  stands  as  the  exponent  of 
a  miniature  renaissance.  Don  Andreas  Almonaster  y 
lioxas  was  the  royal  notary  and  alferez  real.  As  far  back 
as  1770  the  original  govermKcnt  reservations  on  either 
side  the  plaza  had  been  granted  the  town  to  be  a  source 
of  perpetual  revenue  by  ground-rents.  Almonaster  be- 
came their  perpetual  lessee,  the  old  barracks  came  down, 
and  two  rows  of  stores,  built  of  brick  between  wooden 
pillars,  of  two  and  a  half  stories  height,  with  broad,  tiled 
roofs  and  dormer  windows  and  bright  Spanish  awnings, 
l)ecame,  and  long  continued  to  be  the  fashionable  letail 
quarter  of  the  town. 

,Iust  outside  the  "  Rampart,"  near  St.  Peter  Street,  the 
hurricane  of  1770 — Galvez's  hurricane,  as  we  may  say — 
had  blown  down  the  frail  charity  hospital  which  the  few 
thousand  livres  of  Jean  Louis,  a  dying  sailor,  had  founded 
in  1737.  In  1781-80  Almonaster  replaced  it  with  a  brick 
edifice  costing  $114,000.  It  was  the  same  institution 
that  is  now  located  in  Connnon  Street,  the  pride  of  the 
city  and  State. 

In  1787  he  built  of  stuccoed  brick,  adjoining  their  con- 
vent, the  well-remembered,  quaint,  and  homely  chapel  of 
the  Ursulines.  And  now.  to  repair  the  ravages  of  fire,  he 
in  1792  began,  and  in  two  years  completed  sufficiently  for 
occupation,  the  St.  Louis  Cathedral,  on  the  site  of  the 
burned  parish  church.  Louisiana  and  Florida  had  just 
become  a  bishopric  separate  from  Havana.  All  these 
works  had  been  at  his  own  charge.     Later,  by  contract, 


KM)  THK   rUKOLKS    OK    LOl'ISIANA. 

ho  iilled  the  void  made  by  the  burning  of  tlic  town  hall — 
which  had  stood  on  the  isouth  side  of  the  church,  tacin«^ 
the  plaza — eroctinjjj  in  its  ]>lace  the  hall  of  the  cabildo,  the 
same  that  stands  there  still,  ir.ade  more  outlandish,  but 
not  more  beautiful,  by  the  addition  of  a  French  roof. 
The  Capuchins,  on  the  other  side  of  the  church,  had 
alr(!adv  replaced  their  iM-esbvterv  bv  the  bnildint^  that 
now  serves  as  a  court-house.  The  town  erected,  on  the 
rivi'i'-front  just  below  the  ])laza,  a  luille  <h's  Jfon('/u'/'!e.s — 
the  "old  French  niarket."  l>ut,  except  for  these  two 
structures,  to  the  hantl  of  the  old  alferez  real,  or  royal 
standard-bearer,  belongs  the  fame  of  having  thrown 
together  around  the  most  classic  spot  in  the  Mississippi 
\'alley,  the  most  picturesque  group  of  fa9a(.les,  roofs,  and 
spires  in  picturesque  New  Orleans. 

l>ut  fate  made  room  again  for  hnprovement.  On  the 
Sth  of  December,  1794 — the  wind  was  this  time  from  the 
north — some  children,  playing  in  a  court  in  Ivoyale  Street, 
too  near  an  adjoining  hay-store,  set  lire  to  the  hay.  Gov- 
ernor Carondelet — Colonel  Fran9ois  Louis  Hector,  Baron 
de  (^irondelet,  a  short,  plump,  choleric  Fleming  of  strong 
business  qualities,  in  1702,  when  lie  succeeded  Miro,  had 
provided,  as  he  thought,  against  this  contingency.  But, 
despite  his  four  alcaldes  de  harrio,  with  their  lire-engines 
and  firemen  and  axmen,  the  lire  spread ;  and  in  three 
hours — for  tlie  houses  were  mere  tinder — again  burned 
out  of  the  heart  of  the  town  two  hundred  and  twelve 
stores  and  dwellings.     The  new  buildings  at  the  bottom 


0S»^ 


"C&i 


bi.  • 


'  Gratings,  balconies,  and  limc-washed  stucco." 


SPANISH  xp:\v  oulkans.  103 

of  the  plaza  escaped ;  hut  tlie  loss  was  greater  than  that 
of  six  years  hefore,  whicli  was  nearly  .^2,<lU(»,(>0(>.  Onlv 
two  stores  were  left  standing ;  the  levee  and  the  square 
again  became  the  eaniping-gruund  of  hundreds  of  inhab- 
itants, and  the  destruction  of  provisions  threatened  a 
famine. 

JSo  shingles  and  thatch  and  cypress  l)oards  had  cost 
enough.  From  this  time  the  tile  roof  came  into  ireneral 
use.  As  the  town's  central  parts  filled  up  again,  it  was 
with  better  structures,  displaying  many  Spanish-American 
features — adobe  or  brick  walls,  arcades,  inner  courts,  pon- 
derous doors  and  windows,  heavy  iron  bolts  and  ijratings 
(for  liouses  began  to  be  worth  breaking  into),  balconies, 
portes-cocheres,  and  white  and  yellow  lime-washed  stucco, 
soon  stained  a  hundred  colors  by  sun  and  rain.  Two-story 
dwellings  took  the  place  of  one-story,  and  tlie  general  ap- 
pearance, as  well  as  public  safety,  was  enhanced. 

The  people  were  busy,  too,  in  the  miry,  foul-smellino- 
streets,  on  the  slippery  side-walks  and  on  the  tree-planted 
levee.  Little  by  little  the  home  government,  at  the  inter- 
cession of  the  governors— old  IJnzaga,  young  Galvez,  the 
suave  and  energetic  Miro— had  relaxed  its  death-grip. 
A  little  wooden  custom-house,  very  promptly  erected  at 
the  upper  front  corner  of  the  town,  had  fallen  into  sio-nifi- 
cant  dilapidation,  though  it  was  not  yet  such  a  sieve  but 
it  could  catch  an  export  and  import  duty  of  six  per  cent, 
on  all  merchandise  that  did  not  go  round  it.  The  conces- 
sions of  1778,  neutralized  by  war  and  by  English  block- 


104  TIIK    CIIKOLKS    OF    l.oriSlA.NA. 

iide,  liad  hocii  revived,  ("nl;iri;i'd,  aiitl  cxlciidcd  ten  years. 
JMoored  ai;aiiist  tlie  urassv  hank  of  tlie  hriiimiiiii!:  river, 
llie  l»laei<  .^liij»s  weie  takiiiu'  in  hides  and  I'lirs,  bales  of 
cotton,  stavi's,  and  skins  of  indio-o  i'ov  llie  Sj)ainsli  market, 
i)o.\-sliooks  lor  the  West  Indian  snuar-niakers,  and  to- 
bacco. ]>oni;lit  by  tlie  ( iovtM-nni<'nt  ;  and  were  lettini;'  out 
over  Iheir  sides  machinery  and  utensils,  the  I'cd  wines  ot" 
Catalonia,  and  v\"vy  [)r(»dnct  of  the  nKinufacturei-, — be- 
sides nc'uro  men  and  women,  girls  and  boys,  lor  isalo 
sinii'ly  or  in  lots  on  the  landiiii;-. 

On  the  other  side  of  the  town,  also,  tlicrc  was,  by  ami 
by,  !!(»  lit  til'  activity.  A  lake  and  bayou  business  was 
askinii'  room,  and  a  (luestion  of  salutation  was  demandinir 
attention,  and  in  I7i>4  iX;  the  practical  ('aron<lelet  <:-ath- 
ered  a  lar^e  foice  of  slaves,  b(»rrowe(l  from  their  town 
and  country  owners,  and  dui;-  with  pick  and  shovel  in  tlio 
reekino-  black  soil  just  beyond  the  rear  lortilications  of 
the  town,  tiu;  ''Old  llasin"  and  canal  that  still  bear  his 
name.  The  canal  joined  the  i>ayou  St.  John,  and  thus 
connected  ten  thousand  scpiare  yards  of  artilicial  harbor 
M-itli  l.ake  Pontchartrain  and  the  sea-coast  bevond.  The 
lands  contiii'uous  to  this  basin  and  canal  were  covered  with 
noisome  pools,  the  source  of  jMiti-id  fevers,  and,  some 
years  later,  as  Oarondelet  had  n.ged  fi-om  the  first,  the 
cabildo  divided  them  into  garden  lots  and  let  them  out 
at  low  ground-rents  to  those  who  M'ould  destroy  their  in- 
salubrity by  ditching  and  draining  them  into  the  canal. 
They  began  soon  to  be  built  on,  and  have  long  been  en- 


SPANISH    NK\V   (HILKAXS.  1()7 

tirelj  settled  up;  but  their  drainage  can  liardly  l)o  con- 
sidered to  have  l)een  tliorougli  and  final,  as,  during  an  in- 
ujidation  eighty  years  afterward,  the  present  writer  passed 
throuiih  its  streets  in  a  skiff,  with  the  water  as  hi<;h  as 
the  gate-knobs. 

l>y  such  measures  it  was  that  the  Spanish  king  sought 
''  to  secure  to  his  vassals  the  utmost  felicitv."  This  was 
much  more  than  the  ])ossession  of  Louisiana  afforded  the 
king.  The  treaty  of  peace,  signed  in  IT^^J  by  (ireat 
Ihitain,  the  Tnited  States,  France,  and  Spain,  had  made 
the  new  American  power  his  rival.  The  western  Ixumd- 
ary  of  the  States  was  fixed  on  the  Mississipi)i  from  the 
great  lakes  to  a  point  nearly  opposite  the  mouth  of  lied 
Itiver,  and  the  fortified  points  along  that  line,  wliich  had 
fallen  so  short  a  time  before  into  the  hands  of  (ialvez, 
were  re(|uired  to  be  yielded  up.  Such  was  the  first  (ni- 
croachment  of  American  upon  Spanish  power  in  the  great 
basin. 

Another  influence  tending  to  turn  the  scales  in  favor  of 
the  States  was  a  change  in  the  agricultural  products  of  the 
Delta,  giving  to  the  commerce  of  Xew  Orleans  a  new 
value  for  the  settlers  of  the  West  and  the  merchants  of 
the  Atlantic  seaports. 


XV. 

HOW   BORE    MADE   SUGAR. 

n^IlE  planters  of  tlie  Delta,  on  their  transfer  to  Span- 
ish domination,  saw  indigo,  the  ehief  product  of 
their  lands,  shut  out  of  market.  French  protection  was 
lost  and  French  ports  were  closed  to  them.  Those  of 
Spain  received  them  only  into  ruinous  competition  with 
the  better  article  made  in  the  older  and  more  southern 
Spanish  colonies.  Bj  and  by  kinder  commercial  regula- 
tions offei'ed  a  certain  relief ;  but  then  new  drawbacks 
began  to  beset  them.  Season  after  season  was  unfavor- 
able, and  at  length  an  insect  appeared  which,  by  the  years 
1793-04,  was  making  such  ravages  that  the  planters  were 
in  despair.  If  they  could  not  make  indigo  they  knew  not 
what  to  do  for  a  livelihood. 

They  had  tried  myrtle-wax  and  silk,  and  had  long  ago 
given  them  up.  Everybody  made  a  little  tobacco,  but  the 
conditions  were  not  favorable  for  a  large  crop  in  the 
Delta.  Cotton  their  grandfathers  had  known  since  1713. 
The  soil  and  climate  above  Orleans  Island  suited  it,  and  it 
had  always  been  raised  in  moderate  quantity.  M.  De- 
breuil,  a  wealthy  townsman  of  New  Orleans  and  a  land- 


HOW    BORE   3IA1)P:   ST^dAK.  109 

holder,  a  leading  mind  among  the  people,  had  invented  a 
cotton-gin  effective  enough  to  induce  a  decided  increase 
in  the  amount  of  cotton  raised  in  the  colony.  Yet  a  still 
better  mode  of  ginning  the  staple  from  the  seed  was 
needed  to  give  the  product  a  decided  connnercial  value. 
There  was  some  anticipation  of  its  possible  im])()rtance, 
and  certain  ones  who  gave  the  liiiatter  thought  had,  in 
1700,  recommended  the  importation  of  such  apparatus  as 
could  be  found  in  India.  In  1708  cotton  had  become  an 
article  of  export  from  Xew  Orleans,  and  in  the  manifesto 
with  which  the  insurgents  banished  Ulloa  it  is  mentioned 
as  a  product  whose  culture,  "  improved  by  experience, 
promised  the  planter  the  recompense  of  his  toils." 

At  the  time  of  the  collapse  in  the  indigo  production, 
the  Creoles  were  still  experimenting  with  cotton  ;  but  the 
fame  of  Eli  Whitney's  newly  invented  cotton-gin  had 
probably  not  reached  them.  There  must  have  been  few 
of  them,  indeed,  \vho  supposed  that  eight  years  later  the 
cotton  crop  of  Louisiana  and  export  from  Kew  Orleans 
would  be  respectively  20,000  and  ;i4,000  300-pound  bales. 
They  turned  for  a  time  in  another  direction.  The  lower 
Delta  was  a  little  too  far  south  for  cotton  as  a  sure  crop. 
They  would  try  once  more,  as  their  fathers  had  tried,  to 
nuike  merchantable  sugar. 

On  a  portion  of  the  city's  present  wholesale  business 
district,  near  Tchoupitoulas  Street,  this  great  staple  had 
been  first  planted  in  Louisiana  by  the  Jesuit  fathers  in 
1751.     They  had  received   their  seed,  or  rather  layers, 


il^  TIIK    CliKOLKS    OF    LfMlSIA  \A. 

from  St.  Domingo.  It  liad  been  gn.wn  in  tlie  tovvn'.s 
vicinity  ever  since,  l)ut  there  only,  and  in  trivial  (iiiantitv. 
Nothing  more  tlian  syrup,  if  even  so  much,  was  made 
from  it  until  in  ITaS  M.  Debreuil,  the  same  who  had  e.\- 
l)erimented  with  cotton,  built  a  sugar-mill  on  liis  planta- 
tion—now that  pai-t  of  the  third  district  adjt)ining  the 
second,  on  the  river-front — and  endeavored  U)  turn  a 
large  crop  of  cane  into  sugai-. 

Accounts  of  the  result  vary.  Sugar,  it  seems,  however, 
was  made,  and  for  a  time  the  industry  grew,  r»ut  the 
sugar  was  not  of  a  sort  to  ship  to  the  Avorld's  markets  :  it 
was  poorly  granulated  and  very  wet,  and  for  several  vears 
was  consumed  within  the  province.  In  17^.")  the  effort 
was  at  length  made  to  export  it  t(»  France:  but  half  the 
first  cai-go  leaked  out  of  the  packages  before  the  vessel 
could  make  port. 

Then  came  the  cession  to  Spain,  and  with  it  i)aralvsis. 
The  half-developed  industry  collapsed.  l>ut  in  lTi)l  the 
blacks  of  St.  JJomingo  rose  in  rebellion.  Refugees  tlew 
in  every  direction.  A  few  found  their  way  to  Louisiana. 
They  had  been  prosperous  sugar-makers,  and  presentlv 
the  efforts  that  had  ceased  for  twenty-five  years  came 
again  to  life.  Two  Spaniards,  Mendez  and  Solis,  in  that 
year  erected  on  the  confines  of  Xew  Orleans,  the  one  a 
distillery  and  the  other  a  battery  of  sugar-kettles,  and 
manufactured  rum  and  syrup. 

Still  the  Creoles,  eveiy  year  less  able  than  the  year  be- 
fore to  make  rash  experiments,  struggled  against  the  mis- 


]I()\V    HOKE    MADK    Sl'CiAK. 


Ill 


fortunes  that  imiltiplied  aruuiid  tlie  ciiltivatioii  of  iiidii^o, 
until  171>4:  found  tlicni  witliout  hope. 

At  tliis  juncture  appeared  Ktienne  dc  IJori'.     He  ^vas  a 
num  of  fifty-four,  a  Creole  of  tlie  Illinois  district,  hut  ot'  a 


Etienne  cle  Bore. 


distinguished  Nornum  family  ;  lie  liad  lived  in  France 
from  the  ay-e  of  four  to  thirtv-two,  had  served  with  the 
king's  inoHHqneiati't'fi,  had  married  a  lady  whose  estate  was 
in  Louisiana  near  New  C)rleans,  an<l  returning  with  her 


112  THE   CKKOLKS   OF   LOUISIANA. 

to  the  province,  had  l)eeorne  an  indigo  planter.  Tlie 
year  17l>4  found  liiiu  face  to  face  witli  rnin.  His  father- 
in-hiw,  Destrelian,  liad  in  former  years  been  one  of  the 
hist  to  abandon  sugar  culture.  His  wife  and  friends 
warned  liini  against  the  resolution  he  was  taking  ;  but  lie 
persisted  in  his  determination  to  abandon  indiiio,  and  risk 
ail  that  M-as  left  to  liim  on  the  chance  of  a  success  which, 
if  achieved,  Mould  insure  deliverance  and  fortune  to  him- 
self and  the  community.  He  bought  a  quantity  of  canes 
from  :Mendez  and  Solis,  planted  on  the  land  where  the 
Seventh  District  (late  Carrollton)  now  stands,  and  wliile 
his  ci'op  was  gi-owing  erected  a  mill,  and  prepared  liimself 
for  the  momentous  season  of  "  iJrindin«^"' 

His   fellow-planters  looked  on  with  the  liveliest— not 
always  with  the  most   hopeful— interest,   and  at   length 
they  gathei-ed  about  Iiim   to  see  the  issue  of  the  experi- 
ment in  M-hich  only  lie  could  be  more  deeply  concerned 
than  they.     In  the  whole  picturesque  history  of  the  Loui- 
siana Ci-eoles  few  scenes  offer  so  striking  a  subject  for  the 
painter  as  that  afforded  in  this  episode  :  The  dark  sugar- 
house ;  the  battery  of  liuge  caldrons,  with  their  yellow 
juice  boiling  like  a  sea,  half-hidden  in  clouds  of  steam ; 
the  half-clad,  shining  negroes  swinging  the  gigantic  uten- 
sils with  which  the  seething  flood   is  dipped  from  kettle 
to  kettle ;   liere,  grouped  at  the  end  of  the  battery,  the 
Creole  planters  with  anxious  faces  drawing  around  their 
central  figure  as  closely  as  they  can  ;  and  in  the  midst  the 
old  mousquetaire,  dipping,  from  time  to  time,  the  thick- 


HOW   BORE   MADE   SUGAll.  113 

ening  juice,  repeating  again  and  again  his  simple  tests, 
until,  in  the  moment  of  tinal  trial,  there  is  a  connuon  look 
of  suspense,  and  instantly  after  it  the  hands  are  dropped, 
heads  are  raised,  the  brow  is  wiped,  and  there  is  a  long 
breath  of  relief — "  it  granulates !  " 

The  people  were  electrified.  Etienne  de  Bore  mar- 
keted $12,000  worth  of  supei-ior  sugar.  The  absence  of 
interdictions  that  had  stifled  earlier  trade  enabled  him  to 
sell  his  product  to  advantage.  The  agriculture  of  the 
Delta  was  revolutionized  ;  and,  seven  years  afterward, 
Xew  Orleans  was  the  market  for  200,000  gallons  of  rum, 
250,000  gallons  of  molasses,  and  5,000,000  pounds  of 
sugar.  The  town  contained  some  twelve  distilleries — 
probably  not  a  subject  for  unmixed  congratulation — and  a 
sugar  refinery  which  produced  about  200,000  pounds  of 
loaf  sugar;  while  on  the  other  hand  the  production  (.f 
indigo  had  declined  to  u  total  of  3,000  pounds,  and  soon 

after  ceased. 
8 


XVI. 


THE  CREOLES  SING   THE  MARSEILLAISE. 

n^IIE  ypauisli  occupation  never  became  more  tluui  a 
conquest.  TJie  Spanish  tongue,  enforced  in  the 
courts  and  principal  public  offices,  never  superseded  the 
French  in  the  months  of  the  people,  and  left  but  a  few 
words  naturalized  in  the  corrupt  French  of  the  slaves. 
To  African  organs  of  speech  eocoihne,  from  cococh'ilo,  the 

,.  crocodile,  was   easier  than 

caiman,  the  alligator ;  the 
terrors  of  the  calaboza,  with 
its  chains  and  whips  and 
branding  irons,  were  con- 
densed into  the  French 
tri-sjllabic  calaboose,'  while 
the  pleasant  institution  of 
na^a — the  petty  gratuity 
added,  by  the  retailer,  to 
anything  bought — grew  the 
pleasanter,  drawn  out  into 
Gallicized  lagnajype. 
The  only  newspaper  in  the  town  or  province,  as  it  was 
also  the  first,  though  published  under  the  auspices  of  Car- 


In  the  Cabildo. 


THE   CKEOI.KS   SIXO   TlIK    MAKSKILLAISK.  llf) 

oiulelet,  was  the  "Monitenr  de  la  Loiiisiaiic,"  printed 
LMitirely  in  French.  It  made  its  first  appearance  in  1704. 
Spanish  rrsulines,  sent  from  Havana  to  impart  their 
own  tongue,  liad  to  teach  in  French  instead,  and  to  con- 
tent themselves  with  the  feeble  achievement  of  extortinir 
the  Spanish  catechism  from  girls  who  recited  with  tears 
rolling  down  their  cheeks.  The  puljlic  mind  followed — 
though  at  a  distance— the  progress  of  thought  in  France. 
Many  Spaniards  of  rank  cast  their  lot  with  the  Creoles. 
Unzaga  married  a  Maxent ;  Galvez,  her  sister — a  woman, 
it  is  said,  of  extraordinary  beauty  and  loveliness;  CJay- 
arrc  wedded  Constance  de  Grandpre  ;  the  intendant  Od- 
vardo,  her  sister ;  INIiro,  a  de  Macarty.  Jhit  the  ( 'reoles 
never  became  Spanish ;  and  in  society  balls  where  the 
Creole  civilian  met  the  Spanish  military  official,  the  cotil- 
lon was  French  or  Spanish  according  as  one  or  the  other 
party  was  the  stronger,  a  question  more  than  once  decided 
by  actual  onset  and  bloodshed.  The  Spanish  rule  was 
least  unpopular  about  1791,  when  the  earlier  upheavals  of 
the  French  revolution  were  regarded  distantly,  and  before 
the  Eepublic  had  arisen  to  fire  the  Creole's  long-sup- 
pressed enthusiasm.  Under  Galvez,  in  1779-82,  they  ral- 
lied heartily  around  the  Spanish  colors  against  their  hered- 
itary British  foe.  But  when,  in  1793,  Spain's  foe  was 
republican  France,  Carondelet  found  he  was  only  holding 
a  town  of  the  enemy.  Then  the  Creole  could  no  longer 
restrain  himself.  "La  Marseillaise!  La  Marseillaise!" 
he  cried  in  his  sorry  little  theatre ;  and  in  the  drinking- 


116  THE   CRKOLKS   OF   LOUISIANA. 

shops — that  were  tliick  as  autumn  leaves — lie  sang,  de- 
iiantly,  "  fa  ira,  qa  ira^  les  aristocrates  d  la  lantenie,'" 
though  there  was  not  a  lamp-post  in  his  town  until  three 
years  later,  when  the  same  governor  put  up  eighty. 

Meantime  Spain's  hand  eanie  down  agahi  with  a  pres- 
sure that  brought  to  mind  the  cruel  past.     The  peoi)le 
were  made  to  come  up  and  subscribe  themselves  Span- 
iards, and   sundry    persons   were    arrested   and   sent   to 
Havana.     The  baron  reljuilt  the  fortifications  on  a  new 
and  stronger  plan.     At  the  lower  river  corner  was  Fort 
St.  Charles,  a  Hve-sided  thing  for  one  hundred  and  fifty 
men,  with  brick-faced  parapet  eighteen  feet  thick,  a  ditch, 
and  a  covert  way  ;  at  the  upper  i-iver  corner  was  Fort  St. 
Louis,  like  it,  but  smaller.     They  were  armed  with  about 
twelve  eighteen-  and  twelve-pounders.      Between  them, 
where  Toulouse  Street  opened    upon  the   river-front,  a 
large  battery  crossed  fires  with  both.     In  the  rear  of  the 
town  M^ere  three  lesser  forts,  mere  stockades,  with  fraises. 
All  around  from  fort  to  fort  ran  a  parapet  of  earth  sur- 
mounted with  palisades,  and  a  moat  forty  feet  wide  and 
seven  deep.      "These   fortifications,"  wrote   Carondclet, 
'•  would  not  only  protect  the  city  against  the  attack  of  an 
enemy,  but  also  keep  in  check  its  inhabitants.     But  for 
them,"  he  said,  "  a  revolution  would  have  taken  place." 

This  was  in  1794.  The  enemy  looked  for  from  with- 
out was  the  pioneers  of  Kentucky,  Georgia,  etc.  The 
abridgment  of  their  treaty  rights  on  the  Mississippi  had 
fretted  them.     Instigated  by  Genet,  the  French  minister 


THE  CREOLKS   SIXG  THE   MARSEILLAISE.  117 

to  tlie  United  States,  and  headed  by  one  Clark  and  bv 
Anguste  de  la  Chaise,  a  Lonisiana  Creole  of  powerful 
family,  \vho  had  gone  to  Kentucky  for  the  purpose,  they 
were  preparing  to  make  a  descent  upon  New  Orleans  for 
its  deliverance ;  when  events  that  await  recital  arrested  the 
movement. 


A  Royal  Street  Corner. 


XVII. 

THE  AMERICANS. 

/^AROXDELET  had  strengthened  the  walls  that  ini- 
umred  the  Creoles  of  Xew  Orleans;  but,  outside, 
the  messenger  of  their  better  destiny  was  knocking  at  the 
gate   with   angry  impatience.     Congress   had   begun,  in 
1779,  to  claim   the  freedom  of  the   Mississippi.     The 
treaty  of  1783  granted  this ;  but  in  words  onlv,  not  in 
fact.     Spain   intrigued.   Congress   menaced,  and  oppres- 
sions, concessions,  aggressions,  deceptions,  and  corruption 
lengthened  out  the  years.     New  Orleans—"  Orleens  "  the 
Westerners    called    it— there  was    the    main    difficulty. 
Every  one  could  see  now  its  approaching  commercial 
greatness.     To  Spain  it  was  the  key  of  her  possessions. 
To  the  West  it  was  the  only  possible  breathing-hole  of  its 
commerce. 

Miro  was  still  governing  ad  interim,  -when,  in  1785, 
there  came  to  him  the  commissioners  from  the  State  of 
Georgia  demanding  liberty  to  extend  her  boundary  to  the 
Mississippi,  as  granted  in  the .  treaty  of  peace.  Miro  an- 
swered wisely,  referring  the  matter  to  the  governments  of 
America  and  Spain,  and  delays  and  exasperations  con- 


THE  AMERICANS.  119 

tinned.  By  178G,  if  not  earlier,  the  flat-boat  fleets  that 
came  floating  ont  of  the  Ohio  and  Cnniberland,  seeking' 
on  the  lower  Mississippi  a  market  and  port  for  their  hay 
and  bacon  and  flonr  and  corn,  began  to  be  challenged 
from  the  banks,  halted,  seized,  and  confiscated.  The 
exasperated  Kentuckians  openly  threatened  and  even 
planned  to  descend  in  flat-boats  fnll  of  long  rifles  instead 
of  breadstuffs,  and  make  an  end  of  controversy  by  the 
capture  of  Xew  Orleans.  But  milder  counsels  restrained 
them,  and  they  appealed  to  Congress  to  press  Spain  for 
the  commercial  freedom  which  they  were  determined  to 
be  depi'ived  of  no  longer. 

Miro,  and  Xavarro,  the  intendant,  did  well  to  be 
alarmed.  They  wrote  home  urging  relief  through  cer- 
tain measures  which  they  thought  imperative  if  Xew 
Orleans,  Louisiana,  the  Floridas,  or  even  Mexico,  was  to 
be  saved  from  early  conquest.  "  No  hcuj  que  perdcr 
tiemjpo  "— "  There  is  no  time  to  be  lost."  They  had  two 
schemes :  one,  so  to  indulge  the  river  commerce  that  the 
pioneers  swarming  down  upon  their  borders  might  cross 
them,  not  as  invaders,  but  as  immigrants,  yielding  alle- 
giance to  Spain  ;  the  other,  to  foment  a  revolt  against  Con- 
gress and  the  secession  of  the  West.  These  schemes  were 
set  on  foot  ;  a  large  American  immigration  did  set  in, 
and  the  small  town  of  New  Madrid  still  commemorates 
the  extravagant  calculations  of  Western  grantees. 

There   had  lately   come  to  Kentucky  a   certain   man 
whose  ready  insight  and  unscrupulous  spirit  of  intrigue 


120  THE  CREOLES   OF  LOUISIANA. 

liad  promptly  marked  tlie  turn  of  events.     This  was  Gen- 
eral James  Wilkinson,  of   the  United    States  service,  a 
man  early  distrusted  by  President  Washington,  long  sus- 
pected by  the  people,  and  finally  tried   for  treasonable 
designs  and   acquitted   for  want  of  evidence  which  the 
archives  of  Spain,  to  which  access  could  not  at  that  time 
1)0  obtained,  have  since  revealed.     This  cunning  schemer 
and  speculatoi',  in  June,  1787,  sent  and  followed  to  New 
Orleans  a  large  ileet  of  flat-bo^ts  loaded  with  the  produce 
of  the  West,  and  practising  on  the  political  fears  of  Miro, 
secured  many  concessions.     By  this  means  he  made  way 
for  a  trade  M'hich  began  at  once  to  be  very  profitable  to 
Xew  Orleans,  not  to  say  to  many  Spanish  officials.     But 
it  was  not  by  this  means  only.     At  the  same  time,  he 
entered  into  a  secret  plot  with  Miro  and  Spain  for  that 
disruption  of  the  West  from  the  East  which  she  sought 
to   effect.     "The   delivering  up   of    Kentucky   into   his 
Majesty's  hands,  which  is  the  main  object  to  which  Wilk- 
inson has  promised  to  devote  himself  entirely,"  so  wrote 
Miro  to  the  Spanish  Secretary  of  State,  January  8,  1788, 
and  Wilkinson's  own  letters,  written  oi-iginally  in  cipher, 
and  now  in  the  archives  of  Spain,  reduced  to  the  Spanish 
tongue,  complete  the  overwhelming  evidence.     "When 
this  is  done,     ...     I  shall  disclose  so  much  of  our 
great  scheme,"  etc.     "Be  satisfied,  nothing  shall  deter 
me  from  attending  exclusively  to  the  object  we  have  on 
hand."    "  The  only  feasible  plan  "—this  was  a  year  later 
~"   .     .     .     was    .     .     .     separation  from  the  United 


THE   AMEKICANS.  121 

States,  and  an  alliance  with  Spain."     Such  was  the  Hat- 
boat  toll  paid  by  this  lover  of  money  and  drink. 

But,  neither  for  the  Kentuckian  nor  the  Creole  was  an 
export  trade  more  than  half  a  connnerce.  Philadelphia 
partly  supplied  the  deficiency,  though  harried  by  corrupt 
double-dealings.  Miro  and  Xavarro  favored  and  pro- 
moted this  trade ;  but  Gardoqui,  the  Spanish  minister  at 
Philadelphia,  not  sharing  in  the  profits,  moved  vigorously 
against  it,  and  there  was  dodging  and  doubling— all  the 
subterfuges  of  the  contrabandist,  not  excepting  false  ar- 
rests and  false  escapes.  The  lire  of  1788  gave  Navarro 
excuse  to  liberate  a  number  whom  fear  of  the  king  had 
forced  him  to  imprison,  and  to  give  tliem  back  their  con- 
fiscated goods.  Such  was  one  branch  of  the  academy 
that,  in  later  years,  graduated  the  pirates  of  Jiarataria. 

The  scarcity  of  provisions  after  the  lire  was  made  to 
help  this  Philadelphia  ti-ade.  Miro  sent  tliree  vessels  to 
Gardoqui  (who  was  suddenly  ready  to  cocipei'ate)  for 
3,000  barrels  of  flour,  and  such  other  goods  as  the  general 
ruin  called  for.  And  here  entered  Wilkinson,  and  in 
August,  1788,  received  through  his  agent,  Daniel  Clark, 
in  New  Orleans,  a  cargo  of  dry  goods  and  other  articles 
for  the  Kentucky  market,  probably  the  flrst  boat-load  of 
manufactured  connnodities  that  ever  went  up  the  Missis- 
sippi to  the  Ohio.  Others  followed  Wilkinson's  footsteps 
in  matters  of  trade,  and  many  were  the  devices  for  doing 
one  thing  while  seeming  to  do  another.  A  pretence  of 
coming  to  buy  lands  and  settle  secured  passports  for  their 


122  THE   CREOLES   OF   LOUISIANA. 

flat-boats  and  keel-boats,  and  the  privilege  of  selling  and 
buying  free  of  duty.  A  profession  of  returning  for  fam- 
ilies and  property  opened  the  way  back  again  up  the  tor- 
tuous river,  or  along  the  wild,  robber-haunted  trails  of  the 
interior. 

So  the  Creoles,  in  their  domestic  commerce,  were  strik- 
ing hands  with  both  the  eastei-n  and  western  "American," 
As  to  their  transatlantic  commerce,  the  concessions  of 
1782  had  yielded  it  into  the  hands  of  the  French,  and 
there  it  still  remained.  "  France,"  wrote  Miro  in  1790, 
"  has  the  monopoly  of  the  commerce  of  this  colony."  It 
suited  him  no  to  mention  Philadelphia  or  the  Ohio.  But 
war  presently  brought  another  change. 


XVIII. 

SPAIN   AGAINST   FATE. 

^T^IIE  port  of  New  Orleans  was  neither  closed  nor  open. 
Spain  was  again  in  fear  of  Great  Britain.  The 
United  States  minister  at  Madrid  was  diligently  pointing 
to  the  possibility  of  a  British  invasion  of  Louisiana  from 
Canada,  by  way  of  the  Mississippi ;  to  the  feebleness  of 
the  Spanish  foothold ;  to  the  unfulfilled  terms  of  the 
treat}'  of  1783  ;  to  the  restlessness  of  the  Kentuckians  ;  tu 
everything,  indeed,  that  could  have  effect  in  the  effort  to 
extort  the  cession  of  ''  Orleans  "  and  the  Floridas.  But 
Spain  held  fast,  and  Miro,  to  the  end  of  his  governorship, 
plotted  with  Wilkinson  and  with  a  growing  number  of 
lesser  schemers  ecpially  worthy  of  their  country's  execra- 
tion. 

Difficulties  were  nndtiplying  when,  at  the  close  of 
1791,  Miro  gave  place  to  Carondelet.  Some  were  in- 
ternal ;  and  the  interdiction  of  the  slave-trade  with  re- 
volted St.  Domingo,  the  baron's  fortifications,  the  banish- 
ment of  Yankee  clocks  branded  with  the  Goddess  of 
Liberty,  etc.,  were  signs  of  them,  not  cures.  In  February, 
1793,  America  finally  wormed  from  Spain  a  decree  of 


124  THE   CREOLES   OF  LOUISIAXA. 

open  commerce,  for  her  colonies,  witli  the  Tnited  States 
and  Europe.  Thereupon  Philadelphians  began  to  estab- 
lish commercial  houses  in  New  Orleans. 

On  the  side  of  the  great  valley,  the  Kentuckian  was 
pressing  with  all  the  strength  of  his  lean  and  sinewy 
shoulder.  "Since  my  taking  possession  of  the  govern- 
ment," wrote  Carondelet,  in  1794,  "this  province 
has  not  ceased  to  be  threatened  by  the  ambitious  designs 
of  the  Americans."  "  A  nation,"  as  Navarro  had  earlier 
called  them,  "  restless,  proud,  ambitious,  and  capable  of 
the  most  daring  enterprise."  Besides  them,  there  were 
La  Chaise,  also,  and  Genet,  and  the  Jacobins  of  Phila- 
delphia. 

It  was  to  President  Washington's  vigilance  and  good 
faith  that  the  baron  owed  the  deliverance  of  the  province 
from  its  dangers ;  not  to  his  own  defences,  his  rigid  police, 
nor  his  counter-plots  with  Thomas  Power  and  others. 
These  dangers  past,  he  revived  the  obstruction  and  op- 
pression of  the  river  trade,  hoping,  so,  to  separate  yet 
the  Western  pioneers  from  the  union  of  States,  to  which 
they  had  now  become  devoted. 

But  events  tended  ever  one  way,  and  while  Carondelet 
was  still  courting  Wilkinson  through  Power,  a  treaty, 
signed  at  Madrid  October  20,  1795,  declared  the  Missis- 
sippi free  to  the  Americans.  New  Orleans  was  made  a 
port  of  deposit  for  three  years,  free  of  all  duty  or  charge, 
save  "  a  fair  price  for  the  hire  of  the  store-houses."  The 
privilege  was  renewable  at  the  end  of  the  term,  unless 


SPAIX   AGAIXST    FATK.  125 

transferred  by  Spain  to  some  "equivalent  establishment" 
on  the  river  bank. 

Still  Carondelet  held  the  east  bank  of  the  river,  tem- 
porizin«5  with  the  American  authorities  thi-ougli  his  col- 
league. General  Gajoso  de  Lenios,  the  Spanish  connni^- 
sioner,  for  making  the  transfer.  ]Je  spent  bribes  freely, 
and  strengthened  his  fortifications,  not  against  Federal 
commanders  only,  but  against  the  western  immigrants 
who  had  crowded  into  the  province,  and  against  the  re- 
newed probability  of  invasion  from  Canada. 

He  made  two  other  efforts  to  increase  his  stren^-th. 
At  the  request  of  the  cabildo  he  prohibited,  for  the  time, 
the  further  importation  of  slaves,  a  plot  for  a  bloody 
slave  insurrection  having  been  discovered  in  Pointe 
Coupee,  a  hundred  and  fifty  miles  up  the  Mississippi 
from  Xew  Orleans,  and  put  down  with  nmch  killing, 
whipping,  and  hanging.  And  he  received  with  extrava- 
gant hospitality  certain  noble  Fi-ench  refugees,  who  had 
sought  asylum  from  the  Keign  of  Terror  on  the  wild 
western  border  of  the  United  States.  They  were  fur- 
nished with  ti-ansportation  from  Xew  Madrid  to  the 
AYashita,  and  were  there  to  receive  two  hundred  acres 
of  land  and  one  hundred  dollars  in  money  for  everv 
mechanic  or  farmer  brought  by  them  into  the  projected 
colony.  The  grant  to  the  IMarquis  of  Maison  Rouge 
under  these  conditions  was  to  embrace  thirty  thousand 
acres.  Tliat  to  the  Baron  de  Bastrop  was  to  cover  one 
Inmdred  and  eight  square  miles,  and  there  were  others 


12G  THE  ckk<)Lj:s  of  LOTISIANA. 

of  less  imperial  extent.  The  royal  approval  was  secured 
U})on  these  grants,  but  the  grantees  ne\'er  fuitille<l  the 
ev)nditions  laid  upon  them,  and  these  great  enterprises 
melted  down  to  famous  lawsuits.  French  cm'xjris,  never- 
theless, did  and  had  already  settled  in  Louisiana  under 
more  reasonable  grants  got  with  more  modest  promises. 
The  town  of  St.  ^Martinsville,  on  the  Bavou  Teche,  Mas 
settled  by  them  and  nicknamed  le  jutit  J\(ju.s — the  little 
Paris;  and  a  chapter  might  well  be  devoted  to  this 
episode  in  the  history  of  the  C.'reoles.  Xew  Orleans 
even  had  the  pleasure  at  length  of  entertaining  for  many 
Meeks,  with  great  gayety  and  social  pomp,  the  Duke  of 
Orleans,  afterward  King  Louis  Philippe,  and  his  two 
brothers,  the  Duke  of  Montpensier  and  the  Count  of 
]>eaujolais.  Boro  and  the  Marquis  Marigiiy  de  Mande- 
ville  were  among  their  entertainers. 

The  Creoles'  republican  enthusiasm  found  vent  in  a 
little  patriotic  singing  and  shouting,  that  cost  six  of 
them  twelve  months  each  of  Cuban  exile  ;  otherwise 
they  remained,  through  all,  passive.  AV^e  have  seen  how 
they  passed  through  an  agricultural  revolution.  But  they 
were  no  more  a  writing  than  a  reading  people,  and  what 
tempests  of  emotion  many  of  them  may  have  concealed 
while  war  was  being  waged  against  France,  while  the  Gulf 
was  being  scoured  by  F'rench  privateers,  and  when  one  of 
these  seized,  and  for  eight  days  held,  the  mouth  of  the 
Mississippi,  may  only  be  conjectured.  ^VG  know  that 
Etienne  de  Bore  escaped  arrest  aid  transportation  only  by 


SI'AIX   ACiAIXST   FATE. 


reason  of  Lis  rank  and  the  poople's  devotion  to  hi,„  «,  ,, 
iniblic  benefactor. 

1\.lU„son  wl.0  was  in  cl.ief  connnand  of  ti,e  A,„eri- 
can  forces  „,  tl,e  West,  gre».  coy  and  cold.  The  en- 
croach.ne„ts  of  the  donh.e-dcah-ng  .enera.-s  subordinates 

JIach  l,9s,  he  abandoned  by  stealth,  rather  than  sur- 
rendered, the  territor,  east  of  the  Mississippi,  so  ll 
'".jnstly  retained  from  tlie  States  ^ 

All  the  more  did  the  Creole  city  remain  a  bone  of  con- 
tent on.     On  the  close  of  the  three-years'  tern.  nan,ed  in 
the  treaty  of  n»o,  the  intendant.  Morales,  a  narrow  and 
iuarrelsome  old  man,  closed  the  port,  and  assigned  ,o 
other  pomt  to  take  its  place. 

But  the  place  had  becon,e  too  important,  and  the  States 
too  strong  for  this  to  be  endured.     The  West  alone  cluld 
muster  twenty  thousand  fightin,.  men      John   \ ,. 
Preo'donf      c       .  "omen.     J  olm  Adams  was 

l-iesident.    Secret  preparations  were  at  once  sot  on  foot 

foee.    Boats  were   built,  and   troops  had  already  bee^ 
ordered  to  the  Ohio,  when  it  began  to  be  plain  tLtZ 
President  must  retire  from  office  at  the  close  of  his  te,™ 
then  drawn,g  near;  and  by  and  by  Spain  disavowed    «; 
intendant's  action  and  reopened  the  closed  port 
Meanwhile  another  eye  was  turned   covetously  „p„„ 

h":r'rt:::Lr'"---^'----o 

9 


XIX. 

NEW  ORLEANS  SOUGHT-LOUISIAXA  BOUGHT. 

"  JpilANCE  lias  cut  the  knot,"  wrote  Minister  Living, 
ston   to   Secretary  Hadison.     It  is  the  word   of 
I3onaparte   liiniself,   that   his  first    diplomatic   act  with 
Spain  liad  for  its  object  tlie  recovery  of  Louisiana.     His 
power  enabled  him  easily  to  outstrip  American  negotia- 
tions, and  on  the  1st  of  October,  1800,  the  Spanish  Kino- 
entered  privately  into  certain  agreements  by  which    on 
the  21st  of  March,  1801,  Louisiana,  vast,  but  to  Spain  nn- 
remunerative  and  indefensible,  passed   secretly  into  the 
hands  of  the  First   Consul  in  exchange  for  the  petty 
Italian  "kingdom  of  Etruria."     When  Minister  Livino-- 
ston  wrote,  in  Xovember,  1802,  the  secret  was  no  longer 
unknown.  " 

On  the  26th  of  March,  1803,  M.  Laussat,  as  French 
Colonial  Prefect,  landed  in  ^^ew  Orleans,  specially  com- 
missioned to  prepare  for  the  expected  arrival  of  General 
Victor  with  a  large  body  of  troops,  destined  for  the  occu- 
pation of  the  province,  and  to  arrange  for  the  establish- 
ment of  a  new  form  of  government.  The  Creoles  were 
filled  with  secret  consternation.     Their  fields,  and  streets, 


NEW   ORLEANS   SOUGHT— LOUISIANA   IJOUOIIT.     131 

and  dwellings  were  full  of  slaves.  They  had  heard  the 
First  Consul's  words  to  the  St.  Doniingans :  "  Wliatever 
be  your  color  or  your  origin,  you  are  free."  But  their 
fears  were  soon  quieted,  when  Laussat  proclaimed  the  tie- 
sign  of  their  great  new  ruler  to  "  preserve  the  empire  of 
the  laws  and  amend  them  slowly  in  the  light  of  experience 
oidy."  The  planters  replied  that  "their  long-cherished 
hope  was  gratified,  and  their  souls  filled  with  the  delir- 
ium of  extreme  felicity  ; "  and  the  townsmen  responded  : 
"Happy  are  the  colonists  of  Louisiana  who  have  lived 
long  enough  to  see  their  reunion  to  France,  which  they 
have  never  ceased  to  desire,  and  which  now  satisfies  their 
utmost  wish." 

Governor  Gayoso  had  died  of  yellow  fever  in  1700— it 
is  said  shortly  after  a  night's  carousal  with  Wilkinson. 
He  had  been  succeeded  by  the  Marquis  of  Casa  Calvo, 
and  he,  in  1801,  by  a  weak,  old  man,  Don  Juan  Manuel 
de  Salcedo.  The  intendant  Morales  had  continued  to 
hate,  dread,  and  hamper  American  immigration  and  com- 
merce, and  in  October,  1802,  had  once  more  shut  them 
out  of  Xew  Orleans  until  six  months  later  again  discoun- 
tenanced by  his  king. 

In  Congress  debate  narrow^ed  down  to  the  question 
whether  jS'ew  Orleans  and  the  Floridas  should  be  bouirht 
or  simply  swept  down  upon  and  taken.  But  the  execu- 
tive department  was  already  negotiating  ;  and,  about  the 
time  of  Laussat's  landing  in  Louisiana,  Messrs.  Livingston 
and  Monroe  were  commissioned  to  treat  with  France  for 


132  THE   CREOLES   OF   LOUISIANA. 

a  cession  of  Xew  Orleans  and  tlie  Floridas,  '*  or  as  nnicli 
thereof  as  the  actual  proprietor  can  be  prevailed  on  to 
part  with." 

Bonaparte  easily  saw  the  larger,  but  nneonfessed  wish 
of  the  United  States.  Louisiana,  always  light  to  get  and 
heavy  to  hold,  was  slipping  even  from  his  grasp.  He 
was  about  to  rush  into  war  with  the  English.  "  They 
have,"  he  exclaimed  passionately  to  liis  ministers,  "twenty 
ships  of  war  in  the  Gulf  of  Mexico.  ...  I  have  not 
a  moment  to  lose  in  putting  it  [his  new  acquisition]  out 
of  their  reach.  They  [the  American  commissioners]  only 
ask  of  me  one  town  in  Louisiana ;  but  I  already  consider 
the  colony  as  entirely  lost."  And  a  little  later,  walking 
in  the  garden  of  St.  Cloud,  he  added  to  Marbois — whom 
he  trusted  rather  than  Talleyrand — "  AVell !  you  have 
charge  of  the  treasury;  let  them  give  you  one  hundred 
million  francs,  pay  their  own  claims,  and  take  the  whole 
country."  When  the  minister  said  something  about  +he 
rights  of  the  colonists,  "Send  your  maxims  to  the  London 
market,"  retorted  the  First  Consul. 

The  price  finally  agreed  upon  was  eighty  million  francs, 
out  of  which  the  twenty  million  francs  of  American  citi- 
zens' claims  due  by  France  were  to  be  paid,  and  Loui- 
iana  was  bought.  Monsieur  Marbois  and  Messrs.  Living- 
ston and  Monroe  signed  the  treaty  on  the  30th  of  April, 
1803.  As  they  finished,  they  rose  and  shook  hands. 
"  We  have  lived  long,"  said  Livingston,  ''  but  this  is  the 
noblest  work  of  our  lives." 


>^EW   OKLEAXS    SOUCIIIT— LOUISIANA   BOUGHT.      133 

About  tlie  last  of  July,  ,vlieri  Casa  Calvo  aud  Salccdo, 
Spanish  commissioner  and  governor,  had  proclaimed  the 
coming  transfer  to  France,  and  Laussat,  the  French  pre- 
fect, was  looking  hourly  for  General  Victor  and  his  force, 
there  came  to  Xew  Orleans  a  vessel  from  Bordeaux  with' 
the  official  announcement  that  Louisiana  had  been  ceded 
to  the  United  States. 

On  the  30th  of  November,  with  troops  drawn  up  in 
Ime  on  the  Place  d'Armes,  and  with  dischargees  of  artil- 
lery, Salcedo,  fitly  typifying,  in  his  infirm  okfage,  the  de- 
caying kingdom  which  he  represented,  delivered  to  Laus- 
sat, in  the  hall  of  the  cabildo,  the  keys  of  Xew  Orleans  • 
while  Casa  Calvo,  splendid  in  accomplishments,  titles,  and' 
appearance,  declared   the  people  of  Louisiana   absolved 
from  their  allegiance  to  the  King  of  Spain.     From  the 
fliig-staff  in  the  square  the  Spanish  colors  descended,  the 
French  took  their  place,  and  the  domination  of  Spain  in 
Louisiana  was  at  an  end. 

On  Monday,  December  the  20th,  1803,  with  similar 
ceremonies,  Laussat  turned  the  province  and  the  keys  of 
Its  port  over  to  Commissioners  Claiborne  and  AV^ilkinson 
The  French  tricolor,  which  had  floated  over  the  Vhc'o 
d'Armes  for  but  twenty  days,  gave  place  to  the  stars  and 
stripes,  and  New  Orleans  was  an  American  town 

Within  a  period  of  ninety-one  years  Louisiana  had 
changed  hands  six  times.  From  the  direct  authority  <.f 
Louis  XIY.  it  had  been  handed  over,  in  1712,  to  the  com- 
mercial dominion  of  Anthony  Crozat.     From   Crozat  it 


134 


THE  CREOLES   OF  LOUISIANA. 


had  passed,  in  1717,  to  tlie  Compagnie  de  I'Occident; 
from  the  company,  in  1731,  to  the  undelegated  authority 
of  Louis  XV. ;  from  him,  in  1762,  to  Spain  ;  from  Spain, 


m 


Q^JjjJtdjL 


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mm     ij 


£^^.^  c^^jffe^^-^.  If     \k^.::vv^ 


I 


Autographs  from  the  Archives, 


in  1801,  back  to  France ;  and  at  length,  in  1803,  from 
France  to  the  United  States,  finally  emancipated  from  the 
service  and  bargainings  of  European  masters. 


XX. 

NEW  ORLEANS  IN  1803. 

"VTEW  ORLEAXS  had  been  under  the  actual  sway  of 
■^^  the  Spaniard  for  thirty-four  years.  Ten  thousand 
inhabitants  were  gathered  in  and  about  its  walls.  Most 
of  the  whites  were  Creoles.  Even  in  the  province  at 
large  these  were  three  in  every  four.  Immigrants  from 
Malaga,  the  Canaries,  and  ^ova  Scotia  had  passed  on 
through  the  town  and  into  the  rural  districts.  Of  the 
thousands  of  Americans,  only  a  few  scores  of  mercantile 
pioneers  came  as  far  as  the  town — sometimes  with  fam- 
ilies, but  generally  without.  Free  trade  with  France 
had  brought  some  French  merchants,  and  the  Reign 
of  Terror,  as  we  have  seen,  had  driven  here  a  few 
royalists.  The  town  had  filled  and  overflowed  its  orig- 
inal boundaries.  From  the  mast-head  of  a  ship  in  the 
harbor  one  looked  down  upon  a  gathering  of  from 
twelve  hundred  to  fourteen  hundred  dwellings  and 
stores,  or  say  four  thousand  roofs — to  such  an  extent 
did  slavery  multiply  outhouses.  They  were  of  many 
kinds,  covered  with  half-cylindrical  or  with  flat  tiles,  with 
shingles,  or  with  slates,  and  showed  an  endless  variety  in 


136 


THE  CREOLES   OF  LOUISIANA. 


height  and  in  bright  confusion  of  color  and  form — veran- 
das and  balconies,  dormer  windows,  lattices,  and  belve- 
deres.     Under  the   river  bank,   "  within  ten    steps  of 

Tchoupitoulas 


Street,"  where 
land  has  since 
formed  and  been 
covered  with 
brick  stores  for 
several  squares, 
the  fleets  of 


barges  and  flat- 
boats  from  the 
West  moored  and  un- 
loaded, or  retailed  their  con- 
tents at  the  water's  edge.  Far- 
down,  immediately  abreast  of 
the  town,  between  the  npper  limits  and 
the  Place  d'Armes,  lay  the  shipping — 
twenty  or  more  vessels  of  from  100  to  200  tons 
burden,  hauled  close  against  the  bank.  Still  farther 
on,  beyond  the  Government  warehouses,  was  the  mooring- 
place  of  the  vessels  of  war.  Looking  down  into  the  streets 
— Toulouse,  St.  Peter,  Conti,  St.  Louis,  Royale,  Chartres 
— one  caught  the  brisk  movements  of  a  commercial  port. 
They  were  straight,  and  fairly  spacious, for  the  times;  but 
unpaved,  ill-drained,  filthy,  poorly  lif;lited,  and  often  im- 
passable for  the  mire. 


NEW   ORLEANS  IX   1S03.  137 

The  town  was  fast  becoming  one  of  the  chief  seaports 
of  America.  Ah'eady,  in  1802,  158  American  merchant- 
men, 104  Spanish,  and  3  French,  registering  31,241  tons, 
had  sailed  from  her  harbor,  loaded.  The  incoming  ton- 
age  for  1803  promised  an  increase  of  over  37  per  cent. 
It  exported  of  the  products  of  the  province  alone  over 
$2,000,000  vahie.  Its  imports  reached  82,500,000. 
Thirty-four  thousand  bales  of  cotton  ;  4,500  hogsheads  of 
sugar;  800  casks— equivalent  to  2,000  barrels— of  mo- 
lasses ;  rice,  peltries,  indigo,  lumber,  and  sundries,  to  the 
value  of  $500,000;  50,000  barrels  of  flour;  3,000  barrels 
of  beef  and  pork ;  2,000  liogsheads  of  tobacco ;  and  smaller 
quantities  of  corn,  butter,  hams,  meal,  lard,  beans,  hides, 
staves,  and  cordage,  had  passed  in  1802  across  its  famous 
levee. 

Everywhere  the  restless  American  was  conspicuous, 
and,  with  the  Englishman  and  the  Irishman,  composed 
the  majority  of  the  commercial  class.  The  French,  ex- 
cept a  few,  had  subsided  into  the  retail  trade  or  the 
mechanical  callings.  The  Spaniards  not  in  military  or 
civil  service  were  generally  humble  Catalans,  keepers  of 
shops,  and  of  the  low  cabarets  that  occupied  almost  every 
street  corner.  The  Creole  was  on  every  side — handsome, 
proud,  illiterate,  elegant  hi  manner,  slow,  a  seeker  of 
office  and  military  commission,  ruling  society  with  fierce 
exclusiveness,  looking  upon  toil  as  the  slave's  proper 
badge,  lending  money  now  at  twelve  and  now  at  twenty- 
four  per  cent.,  and  taking  but  a  secondary  and  im&ympft- 


1^8  THE  CREOLES  OF  LOUISIANA. 

thetic  part  in  the  commercial  life  from  which  was  spring- 
"ig  the  future  greatness  of  his  town.     What  could  he  do « 
The  American  filled  the  upper  Mississippi  Vallev.     En... 
land  and  the  Atlantic  States,  no  longer  France  and  Spain, 
took  Its  products  and  supplied  its  wants.    The  An-^lo- 
Saxon  and  the  Irishman  held  every  advantage ;  and,°ill. 
equipped  and  uncommercial,  the  Creole  was  fortunate  to 
secure  even  a  third  or  fourth  mercantile  rank  in  the  city 
of  his  birtli.     But  he  had  one  stronghold.    lie  owned  the 
«rban  and  suburban  real  estate,  and  presently  took  high 
station  as  the  seller  of  lots  and  as  a  Tcnticr.    The  confis- 
cated plantations  of  the  Jesuits  had  been,  or  were  bein^ 
laid  ont  in  streets.     From  1801,  when  Faubourg  St.  Mar°y 
contained  only  five  houses,   it  had    grown  with  great 
rapidity.  ^ 

other  faubourgs  were  about  springing  up.     The  high 
roofs  of  the  aristocratic  suburb  St.  Jean  eould  be  seen 
stretching  away  among  their  groves  of  evergreen  along  the 
Bayou  road,  and  clustering  presently  into  a  village  near 
where  a  "Bayou  bridge"  still  crosses  the  stream,  some 
two  hundred  yards  below  the  site  of  the  old  one     Here 
gathered  the  larger  craft  of  the  lake  trade,  while  the 
smaller  still  pushed  its  way  up  Carondelet's  shoaled  and 
neglected,  yet  busy  canal. 

Outwardly  the  Creoles  of  the  Delta  had  become  a 
gi'aceful,  well-knit  race,  in  full  keeping  with  the  freedom 
of  then,  sun-oundings.  Their  complexion  lacked  ruddiness, 
but  It  was  free  from  the  sallowness  of  the  Indies.     There 


NEW  ORLEANS  I.x  1803.  jgg 

.      was  a  mucl.  larger  proportion  of  blondes  an,ong  ti.em  tl.an 
as  connnonly  supposed.     Generally-  their  hair  M-as  of  a 
chestnut  or  but  little  deeper  tint,  exeept  that  in  the  city 
a  Spanish  tmcture  now  and  then  asserted  itself  in  black 
■an-  and  eyes.     The  won.en  were  fair,  sy.„,„etrical,  with 
P  easn.g  features    lively,  e..pressive  eyes,   well-roinded 
Ws  and  superb  hair;  vivacious,  decorous,  e..c.eding,y 
aste  ul  an  dress,  adorning  then.seives  with  superior  e^t 
an  drapenes  of  n.uslin  enriched  with  embroideries  and 
.aueh  garn.ture  of  lace,  but  .ith  a  more  n.oderate  display 
o  jewels,  winch  .ndicated  a  connnunity  of  lin,ited  we  Ith 
They  were  .nueh  superior  to  the  n.en  in  quickness  of  wit 
and  excelled  the.n  in  annability  and  i„  ,„,„y  „,,,, 
qnaht,es.     The  more  pronounced  faults  of  the  men  :.c:e 
generally  those  moral  provincialisn.s  which  travellers  re 
count  w.th  nndue  impatience.     They  are  said  to     a 
been  coarse,  boastful,  vain;  and  they  were,  also,  deficient 
n  en         and  application,  without  well-directed  'ambiti 

"atiotin      T     "'""^^^^^^ 

and  totally  wantmg  n.  that  comnmnity  feeling  ,vhieh 
begets  the  study  of   reciprocal   rights  and   obl^at^ 
and  reveals  the  individual's  advantage  in  the  promoi    ' 
of  the  common  mterest.    Hence,  the  Creoles  were  fonder 
of  pleasant  fictions  regarding  the  salubrity,  beauty  .o„c 

"st.ty  thear  assumptions.     Wjtu   African  slavery  they 
ea-e  of  course,  licentious,  and  they  were  always  ready  f^^ 
the  duelhng-ground ;  yet  it  need  not  seem  surprising  th 


140 


THE  CREOLES   OF  LOUISIANA. 


a  people  so  beset  by  evil  influences  from  every  direction 
were  generally  unconscious  of  a  reprehensible  state  of  af- 
fairs, and  preserved  their  self-respect  and  a  proud  belief 
in  their  moral  excellence.  Easily  inflamed,  they  were  as 
easily  discouraged,  thrown  into  confusion,  and  overpow- 
ered, and  they  expended  the  best  of  their  energies  in 
trivial  pleasures,  especially  the  masque  and  the  dance; 
yet  they  were  kind  parents,  affectionate  wives,  tractable 
children,  and  enthusiastic  patriots. 


Transom  in  the  Pontalba  Buildings,  Jackson  Square. 


XXI. 

PKOM  SUBJECTS  TO  CITIZENS. 

J^ITTLE  wonder  that  it  is  said  tlie  Creoles  wept  as 
they  stood  on  tlie  Place  d'Armes  and  saw  the  stand- 
arc)  of  a  people,  whose  national  existence  was  a  mere 
twenty-years'  experime.it,  taking  the  place  of  that  tricolor 
on  which  perched  the  glory  of  a  regenerated  France.    On 
that  very  spot  some  of  them  had  taken  part  in  the  ai-med 
repudiation  of  the  first  cession.     The  two  attitudes  and 
the  two  events  differed  alike.     The  earlier  transfer  had 
come  loaded  with  drawbacks  and  tyrannous  exactions ;  the 
latter  came  freighted  with  long-coveted  benefits  and  with 
some  of  the  dearest  rights  of  man.     This  second,  there- 
fore, might  bring  tears  of  tender  regret ;  it  might  force 
the  Creole  into  civil  and  political  fellowship  with  the  de- 
tested Ameneam;  but  it  could  not  rouse  the  sense  of 
outrage  produced  by  the  cession  to  Spain,  or  of  uniform 
popular  hatred  against  the  young  Virginian  whom  Presi- 
dent Jefferson  had  transferred  from  the  Governorship  of 
the  Territory  of  Mississippi  to  that  of  Louisiana.  O'Reilly 
the  Spanish  Captain-General,  had  established  a  government 
whose  only  excellence  lay  in  its  strength;  Claiborne  came 


142 


THK  CKKOLES   OF   L0UI8IAXA. 


to  set  np  a  power  wljose  only  strength  lay  in  its  excel- 
lence. His  task  was  difficult  mainly  because  it  was  to  be 
done  among  a  people  distempered  by  the  badness  of  earlier 
rule,  and  diligently  wrought  upon  by  intriguing  Frenchmen 
aTid  Spanish  officials.  His  wisest  measures,  equally  with  his 
broadest  mistakes,  were  wordily  resented.     His  ignorance 


William  Charles  Cole  Claiborne,  Governor  of  Louisiana  from    1803  to   1816. 

of  the  French  language,  his  large  official  powers,  Wilkin- 
son's bad  habits,  a  scarcity  of  money,  the  introduction  of 
the  English  tongue,  and  of  a  just  proportion  of  American 
appointees  into  the  new  courts  and  public  offices,  the  use 
of  bayonets  to  suppress  disorder  at  public  balls,  a  sup- 
posed partiality  for  Americans  in  court,  the  jDersonal  char- 


FROM   SUBJECTS   TO   CITIZKXS.  I43 

acter  of  officials,  the  formation  of  American  militia  com- 
panies and  their  parades  in  the  streets-all  alike  fed  tho 
iianies  of  the  Creoles'  vehement  indignation. 

In  March,  1S04,  Congress  passed  an  act  dividing  tho 
province  into  two  parts  on  the  present  northern  boundary 
of  Louisiana,  giving  each  a  distinct  government,  and  to 
the  lower  the  title  of  the  territory  of  Orleans.     This  act 
which  was  to   take  effect  the  following  October,  inter- 
dicted the  slave-trade.     Then,  indeed,  anger  burned.     In- 
surrectionary sentiments   were   placarded   on   the  street 
corners,  crowds  copied  them,  and  public  officers  attempt- 
ii.g  to  remove  them  were  driven  away.     But  that  was  all. 
Claiborne-young,  like   Bienville   and   like   Galvez,  but 
benevolent,  wise,  and  patient-soon  saw  it  was  not  the 
Government,  but  only  some  of  its  measures,  that  caused 
so  much  heat.     The  merchants,  who  in  176S  had  incited 
revolt  against  legalized  ruin,  saw,  now,  on  the  other  hand, 
that  American  rule  had  lifted  them  out  of  commercial 
serfdom,  and  that,  as  a  port  of  the  United  States,  and 
only  as  such,  their  crescent  city  could  enter  upon  the  great 
future  which  was  hers  by  her  geographical  position.     But 
we  have  seen  that  the  merchants  were  not  principally 
Creoles.  "^ 

Although  the  Creoles  looked  for  a  French  or  Spanish 
re-cession,  yet  both  interest  and  probability  were  so 
plainly  against  it  that  they  were  presently  demanding  im- 
patiently, if  not  imperiously,  the  rights  of  American  citi- 
zens as  pledged  to  them  in  the  treaty.     They  made  no 


144  TIIK   C'UEOLES   01-'    LOUISIANA. 

appeal  to  that  France  which  had  a  second  time  cast  them 
off;  hut  at  three  puhllc  meetings,  in  June  and  July, 
petitioned  Congress  not  to  rescind  the  cession  but  tt>  leave 
Louisiana  undivided,  and  so  hasten  their  admission  into 
the  Knion.  Tliis  appeal  was  fruitless,  and  tlie  territorial 
government  went  into  operation,  Claiborne  being  retained 
as  governor.  The  partition,  the  presidential  appointment 
of  a  legislative  council  instead  of  its  election  by  the  peo- 
ple, the  nullification  of  certain  Spanish  land  grants,  and 
an  official  re-inspection  of  all  titles,  Avere  accepted,  if  not 
with  patience,  at  least  with  that  grace  which  the  Creole 
assumes  before  the  inevitable.  But  his  respect  was  not 
always  forthcoming  toward  laws  that  could  be  opposed  or 
evaded.  "  This  citv,"  wrote  Claiborne,  "  requires  a  strict 
police  :  the  inhabitants  are  of  various  descriptions  ;  many 
highly  respectable,  and  some  of  them  very  degenerate." 
A  sheriff  and  posse  attempted  to  arrest  a  Spanish  officer. 
Two  hundred  men  interfered ;  swords  were  drawn,  and 
resistance  ceased  only  when  a  detachment  of  United  States 
troops  W'ei'e  seen  hurrying  to  the  rescue.  Above  all,  the 
slave-trade — "  all-important  to  the  existence  of  the  coun- 
try " — was  diligently  plied  through  the  lakes  and  the  in- 
lets of  Barataria. 

The  winter  of  1804-05  was  freer  from  bickerings  than 
the  last  had  been.  The  intrigues  of  Spanish  officials  who 
lingered  in  the  district  were  unavailing,  and  the  Gov- 
ernor reported  a  gratifying  state  of  order.  On  the  2d  of 
3!!arch,  with  many  unwelcome  safeguards  and  limitations, 


FROM   SI'IUKCTS  TO   CITIZENS. 


14."> 


the  right  was  accorded  the  people  to  elect  a  House  of 
Ilcprcseiitatives,  and  "to  form  for  themselves  a  constitu- 
tion and  State  government  so  soon  as  the  free  population 


Rev.  Father  Antonio  de  Sedella  (P4re  Antoine). 

of  the  territory  should  reach  sixty  thousand  souls,  in  order 
to  be  admitted  into  the  Union.*' 

For  a  time  followini;  there  was  feverishness  rather  than 
events.     Great  Britain  and  Spain  were  at  war  ;  Havana 
was  open  to  neutral  vessels ;  the  conmierce  of  Xew  Or- 
leans was  stimulated,     liut  the  pertinacious  lingering  of 
10 


146  THE  CREOLES  OF  LOUISIANA. 

Casa-Calvo,  Morales,  and  others, — whom  Claiborne  at 
last  had  to  force  away  in  February,  1806, — the  rumors 
they  kept  alive,  the  fear  of  war  with  Spain,  doubts  as  to 
how  the  Creoles  would  or  should  stand,  party  strife  among 
the  Americans  in  T^ew  Orleans,  and  a  fierce  quarrel  in  the 
Church  between  the  vicar-general  and  the  famed  Pere 
Antoine,  pastor  of  the  cathedral,  kept  the  public  mind  in 
a  perpetual  ferment.  Still,  in  all  these  things  there  was 
only  restiveness  and  discord,  not  revolution.  The  Creoles 
had  at  length  nndergone  their  last  transplanting,  and 
taken  root  in  American  privileges  and  principles.  From 
the  guilt  of  the  plot  whose  events  were  now  impending 
the  Creole's  hand  is  clean.  We  have  Claiborne's  testi- 
mony : 

"  AVere  it  not  for  the  calumnies  of  some  Frenchmen 
who  are  among  us,  and  the  intrigues  of  a  few  ambitious, 
unjprincipled  men  whose  native  language  is  English,  I  do 
believe  that  the  Louisianians  would  be  very  soon  the  most 
zealous  and  faithful  members  of  our  republic." 

On  the  4th  of  November,  1811,  a  convention  elected  by 
the  people  of  Orleans  Territory  met  in  New  Orleans,  and 
on  the  28tli  of  the  following  January  adopted  a  State 
constitution ;  and  on  the  SOth  of  April,  1812,  Louisiana 
entered  the  Union. 


XXII. 

BURR'S  CONSPIRACY. 

/^N  one  of  those  summer  evenings  wlien  tlic  Creoles, 
in  the  early  years  of  the  century,  were  wont  to 
seek  the  river  air  in  domestic  and  social  groups  under  the 
willow  and  china  trees  of  their  levee,  there  glided  around 
the  last  bend  of  the  Mississippi  above  New  Orleans  "  an 
elegant  barge,"  equipped  with  sails  and  colors,  and  im- 
pelled  by  the  stroke  of  ten  picked  oarsmen.  It  came 
down  the  harbor,  drew  in  to  the  bank,  and  presently  set 
ashore  a  small,  slender,  extremely  handsome  man,  its  only 
passenger.  lie  bore  letters  from  General  Wilkinson,  in- 
troducing him  in  New  Orleans,  and  one,  especially,  to 
Daniel  Clark,  AVilkinson's  agent,  stating  that  "  this  great 
and  honorable  man  would  communicate  to  him  many 
things  improper  to  letter,  and  which  he  would  not  say  to 
any  other."  Claiborne  wrote  to  Secretary  Madison,  "  Col- 
onel Burr  arrived  in  this  city  on  this  evening." 

The  date  was  June  26,  1805.  The  distinguished  vis- 
itor, a  day  or  two  later,  sat  down  to  a  banquet  given  to 
him  by  the  unsuspecting  Governor.  He  was  now  in  full 
downward  career.  Only  a  few  years  before  he  had  failed 
of  the  presidency  by  but  one  electoral  vote.     Only  a  few 


148  THE  CREOLES   OF  LOUISIANA. 

months  had  passed  since,  on  completing  liis  term,  he  liad 
vacated  the  vice-presidencj.    In  tlie  last  year  of  that  term 
Alexander  Hamilton  had  fallen  by  his  hand.     Friends 
and  power,  both,  were  lost.     But  he  jet  had  strength  in 
the  AYest.     Its  people  were  still  wild,  restless,  and  eager 
for  adventure.     The  conquest  of  "  Orleans "  was  a  tra- 
ditional idea.     Its  banks  were  full  of  specie.     Clouds  of 
revolution   were  gathering  all   around   the   Gulf.      The 
regions  beyond  the  Ked  and  the  Sabine  Rivers  invited  con- 
quest.    The  earlier  schemes  of  Adams  and  Hamilton,  to 
seize   Orleans   Island   and   the  Floridas  for  the  United 
States  ;  that  of  Miranda,  to  expel  the  Spanish  power  from 
the  farther  shores  of  the  Gulf;  the  plottings  of  Wilkin- 
son, to  surrender  the  AYest  into  the  hands  of  Spain— all 
these  abandoned  projects  seem  to  have  cast  their  shadows 
on  the  mind  of  Burr  and  colored  his  desiirns 

The  stern  patriotism  of  the  older  States  liad  weighed 
hhn  in  its  balances  and  rejected  him.  He  had  turned 
with  a  vagueness  of  plan  that  waited  for  clearer  definition 
on  the  chances  of  the  future,  and,  pledged  to  no  principle, 
had  set  out  in  quest  of  aggrandizement  and  empire,  either 
on  the  Mississippi  or  among  the  civilizations  that  encircle 
the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  as  the  turn  of  events  might  decree. 
In  the  West,  he  had  met  Wilkinson,  and  was  now  in  cor- 
respondence with  him. 

The  Governor  M'ho  had  feasted  him  moved  much  in  the 
gay  society  of  the  Creoles.  It  was  not  giddiness,  but 
anxious   thought   and   care   that  pushed   him  into  such 


burr's  conspiracy.  149 

scenes.  Troubles  and  afflictions  marked  his  footsteps;  his 
wife  and  child  stricken  down  by  yellow  fever,  her  youno- 
brother-in-law  rashly  championing  him  against  the  sneers 
of  his  enemies,  fallen  in  a  duel ;  but  it  was  necessary  to 
avoid  the  error— Ulloa's  earlier  error— of  self -isolation. 
lie  wisely,  tiierefore,  mingled  in  the  gayeties  of  the  touchy 
people,  even  took  from  among  them— after  a  short  year  of 
widowhood— a  second  wife,  bore  all  things  without  resent- 
ment, and  by  thus  studying  the  social  side  of  the  people, 
viewed  public  questions  from  behind. 

The  question  ever  before  him— which  he  was  inces- 
santly asking  himself,  and  which  he  showed  an  almost 
morbid  wish  to  be  always  answering  to  the  heads  of  de- 
partments at  Washington— was  whether  the  Creoles  over 
whom  he  was  set  to  rule  were  loyal  to  the  government  of 
the  nation.  It  was  a  vital  question.  The  bonds  of  tho 
Union,  even  outside  of  Louisiana,  were  as  yet  slender  and 
frail.  The  whole  Mississippi  valley  was  full  of  designiuir 
adventui'ers,  suspected  and  unsuspected,  ready  to  reap  any 
advantage  whatever  of  any  disaffection  of  the  ])eople.  He 
knew  there  were  such  in  Xew  Orleans. 

The  difficulty  of  answering  this  question  lay  in  one 
single,  broad  difference  between  Claiborne  himself  and 
the  civilization  which  he  had  been  sent  to  reconstruct  into 
harmony  with  Xorth  American  thought  and  action. 
With  him  loyalty  to  the  State  meant  obedience  to  its 
laws.  The  Creole  had  never  been  taught  that  there  was 
any  necessary  connection  between  the  two.     The  Govern- 


l.oO  THE  CREOLES  OF  LOUISIANA. 

or's  young  Virginian  spirit  assumed  it  as  self-evident  that 
a  man  would  either  keep  the  laws  or  overturn  them.    It 
was  a  strange  state  of  society  to  him,  where  one  could  be 
a  patriot  and  yet  ignore,  evade,  and  override  the  laws 
of  the  country  he  loved.     «  Occasionally,  in  conversation 
with  ladies,"-so  he  writes-"  I  have  denounced  smug- 
gling as  dishonest,  and  very  generally  a  reply,  in  substance 
as  follows,  would  be  returned :  ^  That  is  impossible,  for 
my  grandfather,  or  my  father,  or  my  husband  was,  under 
the  Spanish  Government,  a  great  smuggler,  and  he  was 
always   esteemed  an   honest   man.' "    They  might  have 
added,  "  and  loyal  to  the  kinff." 

With  some  men  Claiborne  had  had  no  trouble.     "A 
beginning  must  be  made,"  said  Poydras,  a  wealthy  and 
benevolent  Frenchman ;  "  we  must  be  initiated  into  the 
sacred  duties  of  freemen  and  the  practices  of  liberty." 
But  the  mass,  both  high  and  low,  saw  in  the  abandonment 
of  smuggling  or  of  the  slave-trade  only  a  surrender  of  ex- 
istence-an  existence  to  which  their  own  consciences  and 
the  ladies  at  the  ball  gave  them  a  clean  patent.     These, 
by  their  angry  obduracy,  harassed  their  governor  with 
ungrounded  fears  of  sedition. 

In  fact,  the  issue  before  governor  and  people  was  one 
to  which  the  question  of  fealty  to  '  overnment  was  quite 
subordinate.  It  was  the  struggle  of  a  North  American 
against  a  Spanish  American  civilization.  Burr  must  have 
seen  this ;  and  probably  at  this  date  there  was  nothing 
clearly  and  absolutely  fixed  in  his  mind  but  this,  that  the 


burr's  co:j^spiracy.  151 

former  civilization  had  cast  Iiim  off,  and  that  he  was  about 
to  offer  himself  to  the  latter.  Kew  events  were  to  an- 
swer  the  Governor's  haunting  question,  and  to  give  a  new 
phase  to  the  struggle  between  these  two  civilizations  in 
the  Mississippi  vallej. 

Colonel  Burr  remained  in  Kew  Orleans  ten  or  twelve  days, 
receiving  much  social  attention,  and  then  left  for  St.  Louis] 
saying  he  would  return  in  October.   But  he  did  not  appear! 
During  the  winter  the  question  of  boundaries  threat- 
ened war  with  Spain,  and  the  anger  of  Spain  rose  high 
when,  in  February,  1806,  Claiborne  expelled  her  agents, 
the  resplendent  Casa-Calvo  and  the  quarrelsome  Moi-ales,' 
from  the  Territory.     The  Spanish  governor  of  Florida 
retorted  by  stopping  the  transmission  of  the  United  States 
mails  through  that  province.      Outside,   the   Spaniards 
threatened  ;   inside,  certain  Americans  of  influence  did 
hardly  less.     The  Creoles  were  again  supine.     Pere  An- 
toine,  the  beloved  pastor  of  the  cathedral,  was  suspected 
—  unjustly  — of  sedition;  Wilkinson  with  his  forces  was 
unaccountably  idle.     "  All  is  not  right,"  wrote  Claiborne ; 
^'  I  know  not  whom  to  censure  ;  but  it  seems  to  me  that 
there  is  wrong  somewhere." 

The  strange  character  of  the  Creole  people  perplexed 
and  M-earied  Claiborne.  Unstable  and  whimsical,  public- 
spirited  and  sordid  by  turns,  a  display  of  their  patriotism 
caused  a  certain  day  to  be  "among  the  happiest  of  his 
life;"  and  when  autumn  passed  and  toward  its  close  their 
enthusiasm  disappeared  in  their  passion  for  money-getting, 


152  THE  CREOLES   OF  LOUISIANA. 

lie  "  began  to  despair."  But,  alike  unknown  in  the  Creole 
town-to  nionej-getters  and  to  patriots-the  only  real  dan- 
ger had  passed.     Wilkinson  had  decided  to  betray  Burr 

J.ate  in  September  the  General  had  arrived  at  K-atehi- 
todies,  and  had  taken  chief  connnand  of  the  troops  con- 
fronting the  Spanish  forces.     On  the  Sth  of  October  one 
Samuel  Swartwout  brought  him  a  confidential  letter  from 
Colonel  Burr.     He  Avas  received  by  Wilkinson  witli  much 
attention,  stayed  oight  days,  and  then  left  for  IS^ew  Or- 
leans.     On  the  2 1st,  Wilkinson  determined  to  expose  the 
plot.     He  despatched  a  messenger  to  the  President  of  the 
United   States,  bearing  a  letter  which  apprised  him  of 
Colonel  Burr's  contemplated  descent  of  the  Mississippi 
with  an  armed  force.     Eiglit  days  later,  the  General  ar- 
ranged with  the  Spaniards  for  the  troops  under  each  fla- 
to  withdraw  from   the  contested   boundary,  leaving  its 
location  to  be  settled  by  the  two  governments,  and  hast- 
ened toward  Kew  Orleans,  hurrying  on  in  advance  of  him 
a  force  of  artificers  and  a  company  of  soldiers. 

Presently   the  people   of  Kew  Orleans  were  startled 
from  apathetic  tranquillity  into  a  state  of  panic.     All  un- 
explained,  these  troops  had  arrived,  others  had  re-enforced 
them  ;  there  was  hurried  repair  and  preparation  ;  and  the 
air  was  agitated  with  rumors.     To  Claiborne,  the  revela- 
tion had   at  length   come  from  various  directions  that 
Aaron  Burr  was  plotting  treason.     Thousands  were  said 
to  be  involved  with  him  ;  the  first  outbreak  was  expected 
to  be  in  Xew  Orleans. 


burr's  conspiracy.  153 

Wilkinson  had  arrived  in  the  town.  In  the  bombastic 
style  of  one  who  plays  a  part,  he  demanded  of  Claiborne 
the  proclamation  of  martial  law.  Claiborne  kindly,  and 
with  expressions  of  confidence  in  the  General,  refused; 
but  the  two  met  the  city's  chamber  of  commerce,  laid  the 
plot  before  it,  and  explained  the  needs  of  defence.  Sev- 
eral thousand  dollars  were  at  once  subscribed,  and  a  tran- 
sient embargo  of  the  port  recommended,  for  the  purpose 
of  procuring  sailors  for  the  four  gun -boats  and  two  bomb- 
ketches  lying  in  the  harbor. 

There  were  others  in  whose  confidence  Wilkinson  held 
no  place.  The  acting-governor  of  Mississippi  wrote  to 
Claiborne  :  "  Should  he  [Colonel  Burr]  pass  us,  your  fate 
will  depend  on  the  General,  not  on  the  Colonel.  If  I  stop 
Burr,  this  may  hold  the  General  in  his  allegiance  to  the 
United  States.  But  if  Burr  passes  the  territory  with  two 
thousand  men,  I  have  no  doubt  but  the  General  will  be  your 
worst  enemy.  Be  on  your  guard  against  the  wily  General. 
He  is  not  much  better  than  Catiline.  Consider  him  a  traitor 
and  act  as  if  certain  thereof.   You  may  save  yourself  by  it." 

On  Sunday,  the  14th  of  December,  a  Dr.  Erick  Boll- 
man  was  arrested  by  Wilkinson's  order.  Swartwout  and 
Ogden  had  already  been  apprehended  at  Fort  Adams, 
and  were  then  confined  on  one  of  the  bomb-ketches  in  the 
harbor.  On  the  16th,  a  court  oflicer,  armed  with  writs  of 
habeas  corpus,  sought  in  vain  to  hire  a  boat  to  carry  him 
oif  to  the  bomb-ketch,  and  on  the  next  day,  when  one 
could  be  procured,  only  Ogden  could  be  found. 


154  THE  CEEOLES  OF  LOUISIANA. 

He  was  Jiberateil,  b,,t  only  to  be  ro-an-ested  witi,  one 
Alexander,  and  bold  in  tbe  face  of  tbe  haUa.  corpus. 
J  be  court  issued  an  attacbn.ent  against  Wilkinson  It 
was  powerless.  Tbe  Jndge-Work.nan-appealed  to  Clai- 
'.orne  to  snstaia  it  witb  force.  Tbe  Governor  promptly 
dccbned,  the  Judge  resigned,  and  Wilkinson  ruled. 

One  of  Burr's  intimates  was  General  Adair.     On  tbe 
litb  of  January,  1807,  he  appeared  in  Kew  Orleans  un- 
announced.    Colonel  Burr,  he  said,  witb  only  a  servant 
would  arrive  in  a  few  days.     As  he  was  sitting  at  dinner,' 
his  hotel  w.as  surrounded  by  regulars,  an  aide  of  Wilkin- 
son  appeared  and  arrested  bini ;   he  was  confined,  and 
presently  was  sent  away.   The  troops  beat  to  arn.s,  regulars 
and  ,n,Iitia  paraded  through  the  terrified  city,  and  J«d<.e 
M  orkman,  with  two  othc's,  were  thrown  into  confinement, 
'n.ey  were  released  within  twenty-four  hours ;  but  to  inten- 
sify the  general  alarm,  four  hundred  Spaniards  from  Pen- 
sacola  arrived  at  the  n>onth  of  Bayou  St.  John,  a  few  miles 
from  the  city,  on  their  way  to  Baton  Eouge,  and  their 
commander  asked  of  Claiborne  that  be  and  his  staif  mi^bt 
pass  tbrough  New  Orleans.     He  was  refused  the  liberty 

AH  this  time  the  Creoles  had  been  silent.  Now  how 
ever,  tbrough  their  legislature,  tbey  addressed  their  gov- 
ernor. Tl>ey  washed  their  hands  of  the  treason  which 
threatened  the  peace  and  safety  of  Louisiana,  but  boldly 
announced  their  intention  to  investigate  the  "extraordin- 
ary measures  "  of  Wilkinson  and  to  complain  to  Con-^ress 
Burr,  meanwhile,  witb  the  mere  nucleus  of  a  force  had 


burr's  coxspiracy.  15.5 

set  his  expedition  in  motion,  and  at  length,  after  twenty 
years'  threatening  by  tlie  Americans  of  the  AV^est,  a  fleet 
of  boats  actnally  bore  an  armed  expedition  down  the  Ohio 
and  out  into  the  Mississippi,  bent  on  conquest. 

But  disaster  lay  in  wait  for  it.  It  failed  to  gather 
strength  as  it  came,  and  on  the  2Sth  of  January  the  news 
reached  Xew  Orleans  that  Burr,  having  arrived  at  a  point 
near  Xatchez  with  fourteen  boats  and  about  a  hundred 
men,  had  been  met  by  Mississippi  militia,  arrested,  taken 
to  Xatchez,  and  released  on  bond  to  appear  for  trial  at  the 
next  term  of  the  Territorial  Court. 

This  bond  Burr  ignored,  and  left  tiie  Territory.  The 
Governor  of  Mississippi  offered  ^2,000  for  his  apprehen- 
sion, and  on  the  3d  of  March  the  welcome  word  came  to 
New  Orleans  that  he  had  been  detected  in  disguise  and 
re-arrested  at  Fort  Stoddart,  Alabama. 

About  the  middle  of  May,  AVilkinson  sailed  from  Xew 
Orleans  to  Virginia  to  testify  in  that  noted  trial  which, 
though  it  did  not  end  in  the  conviction  of  Burr,  made 
final  wreck  of  his  designs,  restored  public  tranquillity, 
and  assured  the  country  of  the  loyalty  not  only  of  the 
AVest,  but  also  of  the  Creoles  of  Louisiana.  The  struggle 
between  the  two  civilizations  withdrew  finally  into  the 
narrowest  limits  of  the  Delta,  and  Spanish  American 
thought  found  its  next  and  last  exponent  in  an  individual 
without  the  ambition  of  empire, — a  man  polished,  brave 
and  chivalrous;  a  patriot,  and  yet  a  contrabandist;  an 
outlaw,  and  in  the  end  a  pii-ate. 


XXIII. 

THE  WEST  INDIAxX  COUSIN. 

B^™^'  ''''  -<•  J'^lO.  ^^ew  Orleans  doubled  its 
pop«lat,o„.  Tlie  eommou  notion  is  that  there  was 
a  large  „.fl„x  of  Anglo-Au.ericans.  This  was  not  the  ease. 
A  earef ul  estunate  shows  not  more  than  3,100  of  these  in 
the  c.ty  an  1809,  yet  in  the  following  year  the  whole 
populafon,  inclnding  the  suburbs,  was  24,5.2.  tZ 
Amencans,  therefore,  were  numerically  feeble.  The  in 
crease  came  from  another  direction 

Napoleon's  wai^s  were  convulsing  Europe.    The  navies 
of  Ins  enemies  fell  upon  the  French  West  Indies.    I„ 
Cnba  large  numbers  of  white  and  mulatto  refugees  who, 
m  the  St.  Dommgan  insurrection,  had  escaped  across  to 
Cuba  w.th  the,r  slaves,  were  now,  by  hostilities  between 
I  ranee  and  Spain,  forced  again  to  become  exiles.     With- 
""  si.xty  days,  between  May  and  July,  1809,  thirty-fonr 
vessels  from  Cuba  set  ashore  in  the  streets  of  New  Or- 
leans nearly  fifty-eight    hundred  persons-whites,   free 
mulattoes,   and   black  slaves  in  almost  equal  numbers. 
Others  came  later  from  Cuba,  Guadaloupe,   and  other 


THE   WEST  INDIAN  COUSIN.  m? 

islands,  until  they  amounted  to  ten  thousand.     Nearly  all 
settled  permanently  in  Kew  Orleans. 

The  Creoles  of  Louisiana  received  the  Creoles  of  the 
West  Indies  with  tender  welcomes.  The  state  of  society 
in  the  islands  from  which  these  had  come  needs  no  de- 
scription. As  late  as  1871,  '72,  and  '73,  there  were  in  the 
island  of  Guadaloupe  only  three  marriages  to  a  thousand 
inhabitants.  But  they  came  to  their  better  cousins  with 
the  ties  of  a  common  religion,  a  common  tongue,  nuich 
commo'i  sentiment,  misfortunes  that  may  have  had  some 
resemblance,  and  with  the  poetry  of  exile.  They  were  re- 
enforcements,  too,  at  a  moment  when  the  power  of  the 
Americans— few  in  number,  but  potent  in  energies  and 
advantages— was  looked  upon  with  hot  jealousy. 

The  Anglo-Americans  clamored  against  them,  for  they 
came  in  swarms.  They  brought  little  money  or  goods. 
They  raised  the  price  of  bread  and  of  rent.  They 
lowered  morals  and  disturbed  order.  Yet  it  was  certainly 
true  the  Anglo-Americans  had  done  little  to  improve 
either  of  these.  Some  had  come  to  stay  ;  many  more 
to  make  a  fortune  and  get  away ;  both  sorts  were  sim- 
ply and  only  seeking  wealth. 

The  West  Indians  had  not  come  to  a  city  whose  civili- 
zation could  afford  to  absorb  them.  The  Creole  element 
needed  a  better  infusion,  and  yet  it  was  probably  the  best 
in  the  community.  The  Spaniards  were  few  and  bad,  de- 
scribed by  one  as  capable  of  the  vilest  depredations,  "  a 
nuisance  to  the  country,"  and  even  by  the  mild  Claiborne 


ins  TllK   CREOLE?^   OF   LOUISIANA. 

as  "  for  the  most  part  .  .  .  well  suited  for  mischiev- 
ous and  wicked  enterprises."'  The  free  people  of  color 
were  about  two  thousand,  unaspiring,  corrupted,  and 
feeble.  The  Moating  |)opulation  was  extremely  bad. 
Sailors  from  all  parts  oi:  the  world  took  sides,  according 
to  nationality,  in  bloody  street  riots  and  night  brawls  ; 
and  bargemen,  flat-boatmen,  and  raftsmen,  from  the  wild 
banks  of  the  Ohio,  Tennessee,  and  Cumberland,  aban- 
doned themselves  at  the  end  of  their  journey  to  the  most 
shameful  and  reckless  excesses.  The  spirit  of  strife  ran 
up  into  the  better  classes.  A  newspaper  article  reflecting 
upon  Xapoleon  all  but  caused  a  riot.  A  public  uprising 
was  hardly  prevented  when  three  young  navy  officers  re- 
leased a  slave  girl  who  was  being  whipped.  In  Septem- 
ber, 1807,  occurred  the  "  batture  riots.''  The  hatture  was 
the  sandy  deposits  made  by  the  Mississippi  in  front  of  the 
Faubourg  St.  Marie.  The  noted  jurist,  Edward  Living- 
ston, representing  private  claimants,  took  possession  of 
this  ground,  and  was  opposed  by  the  public  in  two  dis- 
tinct outbreaks.  In  the  second,  the  Creoles,  ignoring  the 
decision  of  the  Supreme  Court,  rallied  to  the  spot  by 
thousands,  and  were  quieted  only  by  the  patient  appeals 
of  Claiborne,  addressed  to  them  on  the  spot,  and  by  the 
recommittal  of  the  contest  to  the  United  States  courts,  in 
wdiose  annals  it  is  so  well-known  a  cause.  Preparations 
for  war  with  Spain  heightened  the  general  fever.  Clai- 
borne's letters  dwell  on  the  sad  mixture  of  society. 
"England,"  he  writes,   "has  her  partisans;    Ferdinand 


THE    WKST   INDIAN   ('(H'SIN. 


150 


the  Scvciitli,  fioiiic  faithful  subjects  ;  I»onap.arte,  his  ad- 
mirers; and  there  is  a  fourth  description  of  men,  com- 
nionly  called  Burr'deSy  who  would  join  any  standard 
which  would  promise  rapine  and  plunder.''  These  last 
had  a  newspaper,  "La  Lanterne  Mai;ique,"'  whose  lihols 
gave  the  executive  much  anxiety. 


In  Rue  du  Maine. 


Kow,  into  such  a  city — say  of  fourteen  thousand  inhab- 
itants, at  most — swarm  ten  thousand  white,  yellow,  and 
black  West  India  islanders ;  some  with  means,  others  in 
absolute  destitution,  and  "  many  ...  of  doubtful 
character  and  desperate  fortune."     Americans,  English, 


160  THE    CREOLES   OF   LOUISIANA. 

Spanish,  cry  aloud ;  the  laws  forbid  the  importation  of 
slaves ;  Claiborne  adjures  the  American  consuls  at  Ha- 
vana and  Santiago  de  Cuba  to  stop  the  movement ;  the 
free  people  of  color  are  ordered  point-blank  to  leave  the 
country ;  the  actual  effort  is  made  to  put  the  order  into 
execution  ;  and  still  all  three  classes  continue  to  pour  into 
the  streets,  to  throw  themselves  upon  the  town's  hospit- 
ality, and  daily  to  increase  the  cost  of  living  and  the 
number  of  distressed  poor. 

Thoy  came  and  they  stayed,  in  Orleans  Street,  in  Du 
Maine,  St.  Philippe,  St.  Peter,  DauDliine,  Burgundy,  and 
the  rest,  all  too  readily  dissolving  into  the  corresponding 
parts  of  the  nn^ive  Creole  connnunity,  and  it  is  easier  to 
underestimate  than  to  exaggerate  the  silent  results  of  an 
event  that  gave  the  French-speaking  Louisianians  twice 
the  mimerical  power  with  which  they  had  begun  to  wage 
their  long  battle  against  American  absorption. 


XXIV. 

THE  PIRATES  OF  BARATARIA. 

TT  has  already  been  said  that  the  whole  Gulf  coast  of 
Louisiana  is  sea-marsh.  It  is  an  immense,  wet,  level 
expanse,  covered  everywhere,  shoulder-high,  with  marsh- 
grasses,  and  indented  by  extensive  bays  that  receive  the 
rivers  and  larger  bayous.  For  some  sixty  miles  on  either 
side  of  the  Mississippi's  mouth,  it  breaks  into  a  grotesque- 
ly contorted  shore-line  and  into  bright  archipelagoes  of 
hundreds  of  small,  reedy  islands,  with  narrow  and  ob- 
scure channels  writhing  hither  and  thither  between  them. 
These  mysterious  passages,  hidden  from  the  eye  that 
overglances  the  seemingly  unbroken  sunny  leagues  of  sur- 
rounding distance,  are  threaded  only  by  the  far-seen 
white  or  red  lateen-sail  of  the  oyster-gatherer,  or  by  the 
pirogue  of  the  hunter  stea  g  upon  the  myriads  of  wild 
fowl  that  in  winter  haunt  ihese  vast  ^  'een  wastes. 

To  such  are  known  the  courses  that  enable  them  to 
avoid  the  frequent  culs-de-mc  of  the  devious  shore,  and 
that  lead  to  the  bayous  which  open  the  way  to  the  inhab- 
ited interior.     They  lead  through  miles  of  clear,  brown, 

silent  waters,  between  low  banks  fringed  with  dwarf  oaks, 
11 


162  THE   CREOLES   OF   LOUISIANA. 

across  pale  green  distances  of  "  quaking  prairie,"  in  whose 
shallow,  winding  cooUes  the  smooth,  dark,  sliining  needles 
of  the  round  rush  stand  twelve  feet  high  to  overpeer  the 
bulrushes,  and  at  length,  under  the  solemn  shades  of  cy- 
press swamps,  to  the  near  neighborhood  of  tiie  Mississippi, 
from  whose  flood  the  process  of  delta-growth  has  cut  the 
bayou  off.     Across  the  mouths  of  the  frequent  bays  that 
indent  this  marshy  coast-line  stretch  long,  slender  keys  of 
dazzling,  storm-heaped  sand— sometimes  of  cultivable  soil. 
About  sixty  miles  south  from  the  bank  of  the  Missis- 
sippi as  that  river  flows  eastward  by  Xew  Orleans,  lies 
Grande  Terre,  a  very  small  island  of  this  class,  scarce  two 
miles  long,  and  a  fourth  as  wide,  stretcliing  across  two-thirds 
of  the  entrance  of  Earataria  Bay,  but  leaving  a  pass  of  about 
a  mile  width  at  its  western  end,  with  a  navigable  channel. 
Behind  this  island  the  waters  of  the  bay  give  a  safe,  deep 
harbor.     At  the  west  of  the  bay  lies  a  multitude  of  snjall, 
fenny  islands,  interwoven  with  lu>'^s,  bays,  and  passes, 
named  and  unnamed,  affording  cunning  exit  to  the  bayous 
La  Fourche  and  Terre  Bonne  and  the  waters  still  beyond. 
They  are  populous  beyond  estimate  with   the  prey  of 
fowler  and  fisherman,  and  of  the  huge  cormorant,  the  gull, 
the  man-of-war  bird,  the  brown  pelican   and  the   alba- 
tross.     Here    in    his    time    the  illustrious   Creole  nat- 
uralist,  Audubon,   sought   and    found    in    great   multi- 
tude  the  white  p^jlican,  now  so  rare,  that  rose  at  the 
sound  of  his  gun  and  sailed  unwillingly  away  on  wings 
that   measured  eight  feet  and  a  half  from  tip  to  tip. 


THE   PIIIATES    OF   BAllATAIUA.  1G3 

Xortliward  the  bay  extends  some  sixteen  miles,  and  then 
hi-eaks  in  every  direction  across  the  illimitable  wet  prai- 
ries into  lakes  and  bayous.     Through  one  of  these— the 
bayou  Barataria,  with  various  other  local  names— a  way 
opens  irregularly  northward.    Xow  and  then  it  widens  into 
a  lake,  and  narrows  again,  each  time  more  than  the  last, 
the  leagues  of  giant  reeds  and  rushes  are  left  behind,  a  few 
sugar  and  rice  plantations  are  passed,  standing,  lonely  and 
silent,  in  the  water  and  out  of  the  water,  the  dark  shad- 
ows of  the  moss-hung  swamp  close  down,  and  the  stream's 
windings  become  more  and  more  difficult,  until  near  its 
head  a  short  canal  is  entered  on  the  right,  and  six  miles 
farther  on  the  forest  opens,  you  pass  between  two  plan- 
tations, and  presently  are  stopped  abruptly  by  the  levee  of 
the  Mississippi.     You  mount  its  crown,  and  see,  opposite, 
the  low-lying  citv,  with  its  spires  peering  up  from   the 
sunken  plain,  its  few  wreaths  of  manufactory  smoke,  and 
the  silent  stir  of  its  winding  liarbor.     Canal  Street,  its 
former  upper  boundary,  is  hidden  two  miles  and  a  half 
away   down   the   stream.      There   are   other   Baratarian 
routes,  through  lakes  Salvador  or  Des   Allemands,  and 
many  obscure  avenues  of  return  toward  the  Gulf  of  Mex- 
ico or  the  maze  of  wet  lands  intervening. 

In  the  first  deeade  of  the  century  the  wars  of  France 
had  filled  this  gr.lf  with  her  privateers.  Spain's  rich 
connnerce  was  the  prey  aiound  which  they  hovered,  and 
Guadaloupe  and  Martinique  their  island  liaunts.  From 
these  the  English,  operating  hi  the  West  Indies,  drove 


164  THE   CREOLES   OF  LOUISIANA. 

them  out,  and  wlien  in  February,  1810,  Giiadaloupe  com- 
pleted the  list  of  their  conquests,  the  French  privateers 
were  as  homeless  as  Koah's  raven. 

They  were  exiled  on  the  open  Gulf,  with  the  Spaniards 
lining  its  every  shore,  except  one,  where  American  neu- 
trality motioned  them  austerely  away.     This  was  Louis- 
iana.    But  this,  of  all  shores,  suited  them  best.     Thou- 
sands of  their  brethren  already  filled  the  streets  of  Xew 
Orleans,  and  commanded  the  sympathies  of  the  native 
Creoles.     The  tangled  water-ways  of  Barataria,  so  well 
known  to  smugglers  and  slavers,  and  to  so  few  beside, 
leading  by  countless  windings  and  intersections  to   the 
markets  of  the  thriving  city,  offered  the  rarest  facilities 
for  their  purposes.     Between  this  shelter  and  the  distant 
harbors  of  France  there  could  be  no  question  of  choice.     . 
Hither  they  came,  fortified  Grande  Terre,  built  store- 
houses, sailed  away  upon  the  Gulf,  and  re-appeared  with 
prizes  which  it  seems  were  not  always  Spanish.     The 
most  seductive  auctions  followed.     All  along  this  coast 
there  ai-e  vast  heaps  of  a  species  of  clam-shell,  too  great  to 
admit  the  idea  of  their  being  other  than  the  work  of 
nature.     Great  oaks  grow  on   them.      The   aborigines, 
mound-builders,  used  these  places  for  temple-sites.     One 
of  them,  in  Barataria,  distinguished  from  larger  neighbors 
by  the  name  of  Petit  Temple,  "the  Little  Temple,"  re- 
moved of  late  years  for  the  value  of  its  shells  as  a  paving 
material,  yielded  three  hundred  thousand  barrels  of  them. 
A  notable  group  of  these  mounds,  on  one  of  the  larger 


THE   PIRATES   OF   BARATARIA.  105 

islands  of  Barataria,  became  the  privateers'  chief  pLace  of 
sale  and  barter.  It  was  known  as  the  Temple.  There 
was  no  scarcity  of  buyers  from  Xew  Orleans  and  the  sur- 
rounding country.  Goods  were  also  smuggled  up  the 
various  bayous,  especially  La  Fourche.  Then  the  cap- 
tured vessels  were  burned  or  refitted,  sails  were  spread 
again,  and  prows  were  pointed  toward  the  Spanish  Main. 
The  Baratarians  had  virtually  revived,  in  miniature,  the 
life  of  the  long-extinct  buccaneers. 

On  the  beautiful,  wooded,  grassy  and  fertile  "  Grande 
Isle,"  lying  just  west  of  their  stronghold  on  "Grande 
Terre,"  and  separated  from  it  only  by  the  narrow  pass 
that  led  out  to  sea,  storehouses  and  dwellings  were  built, 
farms  and  orangeries  yielded  harvests,  and  green  meadows 
dotted  with  wax-myrtles,  casinos,  and  storm-dwarfed  oaks 
rose  from  the  marshy  inland  side  where  the  children  and 
women  plied  their  shrimp  and  crab  nets,  and,  running 
down  to  the  surf- beach  on  the  southern  side,  looked 
across  the  boundless  open  Gulf  toward  the  Spanish  Main. 
The  fame  of  the  Baratarians  spread  far  and  wide  ;  and 
while  in  neighboring  States  the  scandalous  openness  of 
their  traffic  brought  loud  condemnation  upon  Louisiana 
citizens  and  officials  alike,  the  merchants  and  planters  of 
the  Delta,  profiting  by  these  practices,  with  the  general 
public  as  well,  screened  the  contrabandists  and  defended 
their  character. 

Mucli  ink  has  been  spilled  from  that  day  to  this  to 
maintain  that  they  sailed  under  letters  of  marque.     But 


166  THE   CItEOLES    OF    LOUISIANA. 

certainly  no  commission  could  be  wortl)  the  unrolling 
when  carried  hy  men  who  had  removed  them.selves  be"^ 
vond  all  the  restraints  that  even  seem  to  distinguish 
privateering  from  piracy.  Thej  were  often  overstodced 
with  vessels  and  booty,  but  they  seem  never  to  have  been 
embarrassed  with  the  care  of  prisoners. 

There  lived  at  this  time,  in   Xew  Orleans,  John  and 
Pierre  Lafitte.     John,  the  younger,  but  more  conspicuous 
of  the  two,  was  a  handsome  man.  fair,  with  black  hair 
and  eyes,  wearing  his  beard,  as  the  fashion  was,  shaven 
neatly  away  from  the  front  of  his  face.     His  manner  was 
generally  courteous,  though  he  was  irascible  and  in  graver 
moments  somewhat  harsh.     He  spoke  fluently  English, 
Spanish,  Italian,  and  French,  using  them  with  much  af- 
fability at  the  hotel  where  he  resided,  and  indicating,  in 
the  peculiarities  of  his  French,  his  nativity  in  the  city  of 
Bordeaux. 

The  elder  brother  was  a  seafaring  man  and  had  served 
in  the  French  navy.  He  appears  to  have  been  every  way 
less  showy  than  the  other ;  but  beyond  doubt  both  men 
were  above  the  occupation  with  which  they  began  life  in 
Louisiana.  This  was  the  trade  of  blacksmith,  "though  at 
their  forge,  on  the  corner  of  St.  Philip  and  Bourbon 
Streets,  probably  none  but  slave  hands  swung  the  sledge 
or  shaped  the  horseshoe. 

It  was  during  the  embargo,  enforced  by  the  United 
States  Government  in  1808,  that  John  Lafitte  began  to  be 
a  merchant.     His  store  was  in  Royal  Street,  where,  be- 


THE   PIUATE8    OF   HAKATARIA.  167 

hind  a  show  of  legitimate  trade,  lie  was  busy  running  the 
embargo  with  goods  and  xifricans.  He  wore  the  disf^uise 
carelessly.  lie  was  cool  and  intrepid  and  had  only  the 
courts  to  evade,  and  his  unlawful  adventures  did  not  lift 
his  name  from  the  published  lists  of  managers  of  society 
balls  or  break  his  acquaintance  with  prominent  legislators. 

In  1810  came  the  AVest  Indian  refugees  and  the  Guad- 
aloupian  privateers.  The  struggle  between  the  Xorth 
American  and  the  AVest  Indian  ideas  of  public  order  and 
morals  took  new  energy  on  the  moment.  The  plans  of 
the  "set  of  bandits  who  infested  the  coast  and  overran 
the  country  "  were  described  by  Government  as  "  exten- 
sive  and  well  laid,"  and  the  confession  made  that  "  so  cen- 
eral  seemed  the  disposition  to  aid  in  their  concealment, 
that  but  faint  hopes  were  entertained  of  detecting  the 
parties  and  bringing  them  to  justice." 

Their  trade  was  impudently  open.  Merchants  gave  and 
took  orders  for  their  goods  in  the  streets  of  the  town  as 
frankly  as  for  the  merchandise  of  Philadelphia  or  Kew 
York.  Frequent  seizures  lent  zest  to  adventure  without 
greatly  impairing  the  extravagant  profits  of  a  commerce 
that  paid  neither  duties  nor  first  cost. 

John  and  Pierre  Lafitte  became  the  commercial  agents 
of  the  "  privateers."  By  and  by  they  were  their  actual 
chiefs.  They  won  great  prosperity  for  the  band ;  prizes 
were  rich  and  frequent,  and  slave  cargoes  profitable. 
John  Lafitte  did  not  at  this  time  go  to  sea.  He  equipped 
vessels,  sent  them  on  their  cruises,  sold  their  prizes  and 


108  THE  CREOLES   OF  LOUISIANA. 

slaves,   and   moved   hither  and   thither  tlirougliout   the 
Delta,  administering  affairs  with  boldness  and  sagacity. 
The  Mississippi's  "  coasts  "  in  the  parishes  of  St.  Tjames 
and  St.  Jolin  the  Baptist  were  often  astir  with  his  known 
presence,  and  his  smaller  vessels  sometimes  pierced  the 
interior  as  far  as  Lac  des  Allemands.     lie  knew  the  value 
of  popular  admiration,  and  was  often  at  country  balls, 
where  he  enjoyed  the  fame  of  great  riches  and  courage,' 
and  seduced  many  of  the  simple  Acadian  youth  to  slil 
in  his  cruises.     His  two  principal  captains  were  Beluche 
and  Dominique  You.     "Captain  Dominique"  was  small, 
graceful,  fair,  of  a  pleasant,  even  attractive  face,  and  a 
skilful  sailor.     There  were  also  Gambi,  a  Iiandsome  Ital- 
ian,  who  died  only  a  few  years  ago  at  the  old  pirate  village 
of  Cheniere  Caminada ;  and  Rigoult,  a  dark  Frenchman, 
whose  ancient  liouse  still   stands  on  Grande  Isle.     And 
yet  again  Johnness  and  Joliannot,  unless-which  appears 
likely-these  were  only  the  j-eal  names  of  Dominique  and 
Beluche. 

Expeditions  went  out  against  these  men  more  than 
once ;  but  the  Government  was  pre-occupied  and  embar- 
rassed, and  the  expeditions  seemed  feebly  conceived. 
They  only  harassed  the  Baratarians,  drove  them  to  the 
mouth  of  La  Fourche  in  vessels  too  well  armed  to  be  at- 
tacked in  transports,  and  did  not  prevent  their  prompt  re- 
turn to  Grande  Terre. 

The  revolution  for  the  independence  of  the  Colombian 
States  of  South  America  began.     Venezuela  declared  her 


THE   PIRATES   OF   BAIIATAKIA.  1G9 

independence  in  July,  1811.  The  Baratarians  procured 
letters  of  marque  from  the  patriots  in  Carthagena,  low- 
ered the  French  flag,  ran  up  the  new  standard,  and  thus 
far  and  no  farther  joined  the  precarious  fortunes  of  the 
new  states,  while  Barataria  continued  to  be  their  liaunt 
and  booty  their  only  object. 

They  reached  the  height  of  their  fortune  in  1S13. 
Their  moral  condition  liad  declined  in  proportion. 
"Among  them,"  says  the  Governor,  "are  some  St.  Do- 
mingo negroes  of  the  most  desperate  character,  and  no 
worse  than  most  of  their  white  associates."  Their 
avowed  purpose,  lie  says,  was  to  cruise  on  the  high  seas 
and  commit  "  depredations  and  piracies  on  the  veLls  of 
nations  in  peace  with  the  United  States." 

One  of  these  nations  was  the  British.  Its  merchant- 
men were  captured  in  the  Gulf  and  sold  behind  Grande 
Terre.  The  English  more  than  once  sought  redress  with 
their  own  powder  and  shot.  On  the  23d  of  June,  1813, 
a  British  sloop-of-war  andiored  off  the  outer  end  of  the 
channel  at  the  mouth  of  La  Fourche  and  sent  her  boats  to 
attack  two  privateers  lying  under  the  lee  of  Cat  Island  ; 
but  the  pirates  stood  ground  and  repulsed  them  with  con- 
siderable loss. 

Spain,  England,  and  the  United  States  were  now  their 
enemies;  yet  they  grew  bolder  and  more  outrageous. 
Smuggling  increased.  The  Government  was  "  set  at  defi- 
ance in  broad  daylight."  "  I  remember,"  reads  a  manu- 
script kindly  furnished  the  present  writer,  "when  three 


170  THE   CREOLES   OF    LOUISIANA. 

Spanish  vessels  were  brought  in  to  Cailloii  Islands.  They 
were  laden  with  a  certain  Spanish  wine,  and  the  citizens 
of  Attakapas  went  out  to  see  them  and  purchased  part  of 
the  captured  cargoes.    There  were  no  traces  of  the  former 


crews." 


In  October,  1S13,  a  revenue  officer  seized  some  contra- 
band goods  near  Xew  Orleans.     He  was  lired  upon  by  a 
party  under  John  Lafitte,  one  of  his  men  wounded,  and 
the  goods  taken  from  him.     The  Governor  offered  $500 
■  for  Lafitte's  apprehension,  but  without  avail. 

In  January,  1814,  four  hundred  and  fifteen  negroes, 
consigned  to  John  and  Pierre  Lafitte,  were  to  be  auc 
tioned  at  "  The  Temple."  An  inspector  of  customs  and 
twelve  men  were  stationed  at  the  spot.  John  Lafitte  at- 
tacked them,  killed  the  inspector,  wounded  two  men,  and 
made  the  rest  prisoners. 

Still  he  was  not  arrested.  His  island  was  fortified,  liis 
schooners  and  feluccas  were  swift,  his  men  were  well  or- 
ganized and  numbered  four  hundred,  the  Federal  Govern- 
ment was  getting  the  worst  of  it  in  w\ar  with  Great 
Britain,  and,  above  all,  the  prevalence  of  West  Indian 
ideas  in  Kew  Orleans  was  a  secure  shelter.  He  sent  his 
spoils  daily  up  La  Fourche  to  Donaldsonville  on  the  Mis- 
sissippi, and  to  other  points.  Strong,  well-armed  escorts 
protected  them.  Claiborne  asked  the  legislature  to  raise 
one  hundred  men  for  six  months'  service.  The  request 
was  neglected.  At  the  same  time  a  filibustering  expedi- 
tion against  Texas  was  only  stopped  by  energetic  meas- 


THE   PIRATES   OF  BAIIATAKIA.  171 

ures.  Tlie  Federal  courts  could  effect  nothing.  An  ex- 
pedition captured  both  Lafittes,  but  they  disappeared,  and 
the  writs  were  returned  "  not  found." 

But  now  the  tide  turned.  Society  began  to  repudiate 
the  outlaws.  In  July,  1814,  a  grand  jury  denounced 
them  as  pirates,  and  exhorted  the  people  "  to  remove  the 
stain  that  has  fallen  on  all  classes  of  society  in  the  minds 
of  the  good  people  of  the  sister  States."  Indictments 
were  found  against  Johnness  and  Johannot  for  piracies  in 
the  Gulf,  and  against  Pierre  Lalitte  as  accessory.  Lafitte 
was  arrested,  bail  was  refused,  and  he  found  himself  at 
last  shut  up  in  the  calaboza. 


XXV. 

BARATARIA  DESTROYED. 

TTTEIGIIIXG  all  the  facts,  it  is  small  wonder  that  the 
Delta  Creoles  coquetted  with  the  Baratarians.  To 
say  no  more  of  Spanish  American  or  French  West  Indian 
tincture,  there  was  the  Embargo.  There  were  the  war- 
ships of  Europe  skinmiing  ever  to  and  fro  in  the  en- 
trances and  exits  of  the  Gulf.  Karelj  in  days  of  French 
or  Spanish  rule  had  this  purely  agricultural  country  and 
lion-manufacturing  town  been  so  removed  to  the  world's 
end  as  just  at  this  time.  The  Mississippi,  northward,  was 
free ;  but  its  perils  had  hardly  lessened  since  the  days 
of  Spanish  rule.  Then  it  was  said,  in  a  curious  old  West- 
ern advertisement  of  1797,  whose  English  is  worthy  of 
notice : 

*'  Xo  danger  need  be  apprehended  from  the  enemy,  as  every  person 
whatever  will  be  under  cover,  made  proof  against  rirte  or  musket  balls, 
and  convenient  port-holes  for  firing  out  of.  Each  of  the  boats  are 
armed  with  six  pieces,  carry  a  pound  ball,  also  a  number  of  muskets, 
and  amply  supplied  with  plenty  of  ammunition,  strongly  manned  with 
choice  Ixands,  and  masters  of  approved  knowledge." 


BARATARIA   DESTROYKD.  173 

Scarcely  any  journey,  now,  outside  of  Asia,  Africa,  and 
the  Polar  seas,  is  more  arduous  than  was  then  the  trip 
from  St.  Louis  to  Xew  Orleans.  Va<^abond  Indians,  white 
marauders,  Spanish-armed  extortion  and  arrest,  and  the 
natural  perils  of  the  stream,  made  the  river  little,  if  any, 
less  dangerous  than  the  Gulf.  Culbert  and  Maglibray 
were  the  baser  Latittes  of  the  Mississippi,  and  Cotton- 
wood Creek  their  Barataria. 

And  the  labors  and  privations  were  greater  than  the 
dangers.  The  conveyances  were  keel-boats,  barges,  and 
flat-boats.  The  flat  boats,  at  New  Orleans,  were  broken 
up  for  their  lumber,  their  slimy  gunwales  forming  along 
the  open  gutter's  edge  in  many  of  the  streets  a  nari'ow 
and  treacherous  substitute  for  a  pavement.  The  keel- 
boats  and  barges  returned  up-stream,  propelled  now  l)y 
sweeps  and  now  by  warping  or  by  corddle  (hand  tow- 
ropes),  consuming  "  three  or  four  months  of  the  most 
painful  toil  that  can  be  imagined."  Exposure  and  bad 
diet  "  ordinarily  destroyed  one-third  of  the  crew." 

But  on  the  lOtli  of  January,  1812,  there  had  pushed  in 
to  the  landing  at  Xew  Orleans  a  sky-blue  thing  with  a 
long  bowsprit,  "  built  after  the  fashion  of  a  ship,  with  port- 
holes in  the  side,"  and  her  cabin  in  the  hold.  She  was 
the  precursor  of  the  city's  future  greatness,  the  Orleans^ 
from  Pittsburg,  the  first  steam  vessel  on  the  Mississippi. 

Here  was  a  second  freedom  of  the  great  river  mightier 
than  that  wrested  from  Spain.  Commercial  grandeur 
seemed  just  at  hand.    All  Spanish  America  was  asserting 


^^■1  THE  CliKOLES   OF  LOLl.SIAXA. 

its  independence;  Wl.itney's  ge„i.,s  «-as  n.akini;  eorton 
tl.e  world's  greatest  staple;  i,„,„igra„t8  were  6war,„i„. 
'"to  the  West;  the  Mississippi  valley  would  be  the  pro! 
v.s,on-house  of  Europe,  the  i.uporter  of  untold  niillions  of 
manufaetures;  Xew  Orleans  would  keep  the  only  gate 
Instea  of  this,  i„  J„„e,  1«,2,  Congress  declared  wa.: 
aga,nst  Great  Britain.  Harataria  seen.ed  indispensable, 
and  J,  ew  Orleans  was  infested  with  .langers. 

In.  1813,  Wilkinson,  still   commanding  in  the  West 
marched  to  Mobile  Kiver;  in  April  he  drove  the  Span-' 
-ards  out  of  Fort  Charlotte  and  raised  a  sn.all  fortiHeation, 
tort  Bowyer,  to  connnand  the  entrance  of  Mobile  Bay 
Thus  tl^  Spanish,  neighbors  only  less  objectionable  than 

done,  AVdkmson  was  ordered   to  the  Canadian  frontier 
and  even  took  part  of  his  few  reg,dar«  with  hin.. 

Ilie  English  were  already  in  the  Gulf;   the  Indians 
«ere  gro«.ng  offensive;   i„  July  seven  hundred  crossed 
the  lerd,do  :„to  Mississippi;  in  September  they  massa- 
cred  three  hundred  and  fifty  whites  at  Fort  Minuns,  and 
opened  the  Creek  war.     Within  Jsew  Orleans  bands  of 
drnnken  Choctaws  roamed  the  streets.     The  Baratarians 
were  seen  daily  in  the  public  resorts.     Incendiary  fires  be- 
came  alarn.ingly  common,  and  the  iatture  troubles  again 
Bp.-a..g  ..p.     Naturally,  at  such  a  junction,  Lafitte  and  his 
men  reached  the  summit  of  power. 

In  February,   1814,  four  hundred  country  militia  re- 
ported at  Magazhne  Barracks,  opposite  New  Orleans.   The 


15A11ATAKIA    DESTIIOYED.  175 

Governor  tried  to  force  out  tlie  city  militia.  He  got  only 
clamorous  denunciation  and  refusal  to  obey.  The  country 
nnister  offered  their  aid  to  enforce  the  order.  The  citv 
companies  heard  of  it,  and  only  Claiborne's  discreetness 
averted  the  mortifyin«jj  disaster  of  a  battle  without  an 
enemy.  Tlie  country  militia,  already  deserting,  was  dis- 
banded. Even  the  legislature  withheld  its  sui)port,  and 
Claiborne  was  everywhere  denounced  as  a  traitor.  He 
had  to  report  to  the  President  his  complete  failure.  Still, 
lie  insisted  apologetically,  the  people  were  emphatically 
ready  to  "turn  out  in  case  of  actual  invasion."  Only  so 
patient  a  man  could  understand  that  the  C'reoles  were  con- 
scientious in  their  lethargy.  Fortunately  the  invasion  did 
not  come  until  the  Creek  war  liad  brought  to  view  the 
genius  of  Andrew  Jackson. 

In  April,  Government  raised  the  embargo.  l>ut  the  re- 
lief was  tardy  ;  the  banks  suspended.  Word  came  that 
Paris  had  fallen.  Kapoleon  had  abdicated.  England 
would  throw  new  vigor  into  the  war  with  America,  and 
could  spare  troops  for  the  conquest  of  Louisiana. 

In  August  the  Creeks  made  peace.  Some  British 
officers  landed  at  Apalachicola,  Florida,  bringing  artillery. 
Some  disaffected  Creeks  joined  them  and  were  by  them 
armed  and  drilled.  But  now,  at  length,  the  Government 
took  steps  to  defend  the  Southwest. 

General  Jackson  was  given  the  undertaking.  He  wrote 
to  Claiborne  to  hold  his  militia  ready  to  march — an  order 
very  easy  to  give.    In  September  he  repaired  to  Mobile, 


176  THE   CREOLES   OF   LOUISIAXA. 

which  was  ah-eady  threatened.  Tlie  British  Colonel 
]S'icholls  liad  landed  at  Pensacola  with  some  companies 
of  infantry,  from  two  sloops-of-war.  The  officers  from 
Apalachicola  and  a  considerable  body  of  Indians  had 
joined  him,  without  objection  from  the  Spaniards. 

Suddenly  attention  was  drawn  to  the  Baratarians.  On 
the  third  of  September  an  armed  brig  had  appeared  off 
Grande  Terre,  She  fired  on  an  inbound  vessel,  forcing 
her  to  run  aground,  tacked,  and  presently  anchored  some 
six  miles  from  shore.  Certain  of  the  islanders  went  off 
in  a  boat,  ventured  too  near,  and,  turning  to  retreat,  were 
overhauled  by  the  brig's  pinnace,  carrying  British  colors 
and  a  white  flag.  In  the  pinnace  were  two  naval  officers 
and  a  captain  of  infantry.  They  asked  for  Mr.  Lafitte, 
one  officer  speakinij;  in  French  for  the  other. 

"lie  is  ashore,"  said  the  chief  person  in  the  island  boat, 
a  man  of  dignified  and  pleasing  address.  The  officers 
handed  him  a  packet  addressed  "To  Mr.  Lafitte,  Bara- 
taria,"  and  asked  that  it  be  carefully  delivered  to  him  in 
person.  The  receiver  of  it,  however,  induced  them  to 
continue  on,  and  when  they  were  \  lainly  in  his  power 
revealed  himself. 

"  I,  myself,  am  Mr.  Lafitte."  As  they  drew  near  the 
shore,  he  counselled  them  to  conceal  their  business  from 
liis  men.  More  than  two  hundred  Baratarians  lined  the 
beach  clamoring  for  the  arrest  of  the  "  spies,"  but  Lafitte 
contrived  to  get  them  safely  to  his  dwelling,  quieted  his 
men,  and  opened  the  packet. 


IJAltATAKIA   DESTROYED.  177 

There  were  four  papers  in  it.     First,  Colonel  Xicholls's 
appeal  to  the  Creoles  to  lielp  restore  Louisiana  to  Spain  ; 
to  Spaniards,   French,   Italians,  and    Britons,   to   aid   in 
abolishing  American  usurpation ;  and  to  Kentuckians,  to 
exchange  supplies  for  money,  and  neutrality  for  an  open 
Mississippi.     Second,  his  letter  to  Laiitte  offeriuir  a  naval 
captain's  commission  to  him,  lands  to  all  his  followers, 
and   protection    in   persons   and   property  to   all,  if   the 
pirates,  with  their  fleet,  would  put  themselves  under  the 
British  naval  connnander,  and  announcing  the  early  in- 
vasion of  Louisiana  with  a  powerful   force.     Third,  an 
order  from  the  naval  commander  in  Pensacola  Bay,  to 
Captain  Lockyer,  the  bearer  of  the  packet,  to  procure  res- 
titution at  Barataria  for  certain  late  piracies,  or  to  "carry 
destruction  over  the  whole   place;''    but  also  repeating 
Colonel  Kicholls's  overtures.     And  fourth,  a  copy  of  the 
orders  under  which  Captain  Lockyer  had  come.     He  was 
to  secure  the  BaraUrians'  co-operation  in  an  attack  on 
Mobile,  or,  at  all  events,  their  neuti-ality.     According  to 
Lafitte,  the  captain  added  verbally  the  offer  of  $30,000 
and  many  other  showy  inducements. 

Lafitte  asked  time  to  consider.  He  w'Midrew;  M'hen  in 
a  moment  the  three  officers  and  their  crew  were  seized  by 
the  pirates  and  imprisoned.  They  were  kept  in  confine- 
ment all  night.  In  the  morning  Lafitte  appeared,  and, 
with  many  apologies  for  the  rudeness  of  his  men,  con- 
ducted the  oflScers  to  their  pinnace,  and  thej  went  off  to 
the  brig.     The  same  day  he  addressed  a  letter  to  Captain 


178  THK   CKKULIOS    OF    LOUISIANA. 

Lockyer  asking  a  fortnight  to  '-put  his  affairs  in  order/' 
when  he  would  be  "  eiitirely  at  his  disposal.''  It  is  notice- 
able for  its  polished  dignity  and  the  purity  of  its  Eng- 
lish. 

AV'as  this  anything  more  than  stratagem  ?     The  Span- 
iard and  Englishman  were  his  foe  and  his  prey.     The 
Creoles  were  his  friends.     His  own  large  interests  were 
scattered  all  over  Lower  Louisiana,     liis  patriotism  has 
been  overpraised  ;  and  yet  we  may  allow  him  patriotism. 
llis  whole  war,  on  the  main-land  side,  was  only  with  a 
set  of  ideas  not  superficially  fairer  than  his  own.     They 
seemed  to  him  unsuited  to  the  exigencies  of  the  times  and 
the  country.     Thousands  of   Louisianians  thought  as  he 
did.     They  and  he— to  borrow  from  a  distance  the  phrase 
of  another— were  "polished,  agreeable,  dignified,  averse 
to  baseness  and   vulgarity."      They  accepted  friendship, 
honor,  and  party  faith  as  sufficient  springs  of  action,  and 
only  dispensed  with   the   sterner   question   of   right  and 
wrono".     True,  Pierre,  his  brother,  and  Dominique,  his 
most   intrepid   captain,   lay  then   in   the   calaboza.     Yet 
should  he,  so  able  to   take  care  of  himself   against  all 
comers  and  all  fates,  so  scornful  of  all  subordination,  for 
a  paltry  captain's  commission  and  a  doubtful  thirty  thou- 
sand, help  his  life-time  enemies  to  invade  the  country  and 
city  of  his  commercial  and  social  intimates  ? 

He  sat  down  and  penned  a  letter  to  his  friend  Blanque, 
of  the  legislature,  and  sent  the  entire  British  packet,  ask- 
ing- but  one  favor,  the  "  amelioration  of  the  situation  of 


IIAIIATAKIA    DKSTUOYED.  170 

his  luiliapi.y  Ijiotlier;*'  ami  the  next  morning  one  of  the 
!Ne\v  OrleauH  papers  contained  the  fuUowin*'-  ailvertisc- 
nient: 

$1,000   HEWAIin 

Will  be  paid  for  the  appivlu'iiding  of  Pierre  Lafitte,  who  brokt^ 
and  escaped  last  night  from  the  prison  of  the  parish.  Said  Pierre  La- 
fitte is  about  live  feet  ten  inches  lieight,  stout  made,  light  complexion, 
and  somewhat  crosy-eyed,  further  <lescription  is  considered  unneces- 
sary, as  he  is  very  well  known  in  the  citv. 

Said  Lafitte  took  with  him  three  negroes,  to  wit:  [giving  their  names 
and  those  of  their  owners]  ;  the  above  reward  will  be  paid  to  any  per- 
son delivering  the  said  Lalitte  to  the  subscriber. 

J.  H.  Holland, 

•        Keeper  of  the  Prison. 

On  the  Ttli,  John  Lafitte  wrote  again  to  Blanque, — the 
British  brig  and  two  sloops-of-war  still  hovered  in  the 
ofling,— shoukl  he  make  overtures  to  the  United  States 
Government  ?  BlaiKpie's  advice  is  not  known  ;  but  on 
the  10th,  Lafitte  made  such  overtures  by  letter  to  Clai- 
borne, inclosed  in  one  from  Pierre  Lafitte— who  had 
joined  him— to  M.  Blanque. 

The  outlawed  bi'others  offered  themselves  and  their 
men  to  defend  Barataria,  asking  only  oblivion  of  the  past. 
The  high-spirited  periods  of  John  Lafitte  challenge  ad- 
miration, even  while  they  betray  tinges  of  sophistry  that 
may  or  may  not  have  been  apparent  to  their  writer. 
"All  the  ofPence  I  have  connnitted,''  wrote  he,  "I  was 
forced  to  by  certain  vices  in  our  laws."     lie  did  not  say 


180  THE   CliEOLKS   OF   LOUISIANA. 

that  these  vices  consisted  mainly  of  enactments  against 
smuggling,  piracy,  and  the  slave-trade. 

The  heads  of  the  small  naval  and  military  force  then 
near  Xew  Orleans  were  Connnodore  Paterson  and  Colonel 
Koss.  They  had  organized  and  were  hurriedly  preparing 
a  descent  upon  the  Baratarians.  A  general  of  the  Creole 
militia  was  Villere,  son  of  the  unhappy  patriot  of  1708. 
Claiborne,  with  these  three  officers,  met  in  council,  with 
the  Lafittes'  letters  and  the  British  overtures  before  them, 
and  debated  the  question  whether  the  pirates'  services 
should  be  accepted.  Claiborne  being  in  the  chair  was  not 
called  upon  for  a  vote.  It  would  be  interesting  to  know, 
what,  with  his  now  thorough  knowledge  of  the  Creole 
character  and  all  the  expediencies  of  the  situation,  his  vote 
would  liave  been.  Yillerc  voted  yea,  but  Ross  and  Pater- 
son stoutly  nay,  and  thus  it  was  decided.  Nor  did  the 
British  send  ashore  for  Lafitte's  final  answer.  They  only 
lingered  distantly  for  some  days  and  then  vanished. 

Presently  the  expedition  of  Ross  and  Paterson  was 
ready.  Stealing  down  the  Mississippi,  it  was  joined  at 
the  mouth  by  some  gun-vessels,  sailed  westward  into  the 
Gulf,  and  headed  for  Barataria.  There  was  the  schooner 
Carolina^  six  gun-vessels,  a  tender,  and  a  launch.  On  the 
16th  of  September  they  sighted  Grande  Terre,  formed  in 
line  of  battle,  and  stood  for  the  entrance  of  the  bay. 

Within  the  harbor,  behind  the  low  island,  the  pirate 
fleet  was  soon  descried  forming  in  line.  Counting  all, 
schooners  and  feluccas,  there  were  ten  vessels.    Two  miles 


IJAWATAKIA    DKSTIIOVKI).  j^.^ 

iV-ni  shore  tlio  ('.n'olhm  was  stoppo.!  l,y  sl.oal  water,  a.,<l 
tlie  two  lioavior  gun-vossels  -roundel.  ]{„t  arnu,,]  boats 
M-ere  launcl.ed,  and  tlie  attack  entered  the  pass  and  moved 
on  into  tlie  liarbor. 

Soon  two  of  tlie  Baratarians'  vessels  were  seen  t.>  be  -.n 
fire ;   another,  attempting  to  escape,  grounded,   and  the 
pii-ates,  except  a  few  brave  leaders,  M-ere  flving.     One  of 
the  fired  vessels  burned,  the  other  was  Imarded^and  saved 
the  one  which  grounded  got  off  again  and  escaped.     All 
the  rest  were  presently  captured.    At  this  moment,  a  fine, 
fully  armed   schooner   appeared   outside  the  island    wis 
chased  and  taken.     Scarcely  was  this  done  when  another 
showed  herself  to  eastward.     The    Carolina  gave  cha^e 
The  stranger  stood  for  Grande  Terre,  and  ran  into  water 
where  the  Carolina  could  not  follow.     Four  boats  were 
l:uniched  ;  whereupon  the  chase  opened  tire  on  the  Caro- 
Una,  and  the  gun-vessels  in  turn  upon  the  chase,  firin>. 
across  the  island  from  inside,  and  in  half  an  hour  she  su.^ 
rendered.     She  proved  to  be  the  General  JUimr,  ariucd 
with  one  eighteen,  two  twelve,  and  one  six-pounder. 

The  nest  was  broken  up.  "  All  their  buildings  and  es- 
tal>lishments  at  Grande  Terre  and  Grand  Isle,  with  their 
telegraph  and  stores  at  Cheniere  Caminada,  were  de- 
^^troyed.  On  the  last  day  of  September,  the  elated  squad- 
ron, with  their  prizes-seven  cruisers  of  Lafitte,  and  three 
armed  sciiooners  under  Carthagenian  colors-arrived  in 
Xew  Orleans  liarbor  amid  the  peal  of  guns  from  the  old 
barracks  and  Fort  St.  Charles. 


184  THE  CREOLES   OF  LOUISIANA. 

But  among  the  prisoners  the  commanding  countenance 
of  John  Lafitte  and  the  cross-eyed  visage  of  his  brother 
Pierre  were  not  to  be  seen.  Both  men  liad  escaped  up 
Bajou  La  Fourche  to  the  "  German  Coast."  Others  who 
had  liad  like  fortune  by  and  by  gathered  on  Last  Island, 
some  sixty  miles  west  of  Grande  Terre,  and  others  found 
asylum  in  Xew  Orleans,  where  they  increased  the  fear  of 
internal  disorder. 


XXVI. 

THE  BRITISH  INVASION. 

pATERSOX  and  Koss  liad  struck  the  Baratarians  just 
in  time.     The  fortniglit  asked  of  the  Britisli  by  La« 
fitte  expired  the  next  day.     The  Britisli  themselves  were 
far  away  eastward,  drawing  off  from  an  engagement  of 
the  day  before,  badly  worsted.     A  force  of  seven  hundred 
British  troops,  six  hundred  Indians,  and  four  vessels  of 
M-ar  had  attacked   Foit   Bowyer,   commanding  the   en- 
trances of  Mobile  Bay  and  Mississippi  Sound.     Its  small 
garrison  had  repulsed  them  and  they  retired  again  to  Pen- 
sacola  with  serious  loss,  including  a  sloop-of-war  grounded 
and  burned. 

Kow  General  Jackson  gathered  four  thousand  men  on 
the  Alabama  Eiver,  regulars,  Tennesseeans,  and  Missis- 
sippi dragoons,  and  early  in  November  attacked  Pensacola 
with  great  spirit,  took  the  two  forts-which  the  Spaniards 
had  allowed  the  English  to  garrison-drove  the  English 
to  their  shipping  and  the  Indians  into  the  interior,  and 
returned  to  Mobile.  Here  he  again  called  on  Claiborne 
to  nnister  his  militia.  Claiborne  convened  the  Legislature 
and  laid  the  call  before  it. 


l&'i  THE    CKEOLES   OF   LOUISIANA. 

llis  was  not  the  master-spirit  to  command  a  people  so 
different  from  himself  in  a  moment  of  extremity.  On 
every  side  was  discord,  apprehension,  and  despondency 
that  he  could  not  cure.  Two  committees  of  safety  en- 
i^aged  in  miserable  disputes.  Credit  was  destroyed. 
Money  commanded  thi-ee  or  four  per  cent,  a  month. 
The  Legislature  dawdled  until  the  Louisianian  himself 
uttered  a  noble  pi'otest.  "  Xo  other  evidence  of  patriot- 
isin  is  to  be  found,"  cried  Louallier,  of  Opelousas,  "  than  a 
disposition  to  avoid  every  expense,  every  fatigue." 

It  was  easy  to  count  up  the  resources  of  defence  :  Pat- 
erson's  feeble  navy,  the  weak  Fort  St.  Philip  on  the 
river,  the  unfinished  Fort  Petites  Coquilles  on  the  Rigo- 
lets,  Ptoss's  seven  hundred  regulars,  a  thousand  militia 
mustered  at  last  after  three  imperative  calls,  a  wretchedly 
short  supply  of  ammunition— nothing  more.  "  Our  situ- 
ation," says  La  Carriere  Latour  in  his  admirable  memoir, 
"seemed  desperate."  Twelve  thousand  chosen  British 
troops  were  known  to  have  sailed  for  Louisiana. 

But  suddenly,  one  day,  the  first  of  winter,  confidence 
returned  ;  enthusiasm  sprang  up  ;  all  was  changed  in  a 
moment  by  the  arrival  of  one  man,  whose  spare  form 
thrilled  everything  with  its  electric  energy.  He  reviewed 
the  Creole  troops,  and  praised  their  equipment  and  drill ; 
he  inspected  their  forts;  he  was  ill,  but  he  was  every- 
where ;  and  everyone  who  saw  that  intense  eye,  that  un- 
furrowed  but  fixed  brow,  the  dry  locks  falling  down  over 
it  as  if  blown  there  by  hard  riding,  and  the  two  double 


THE   BKITLSII    INVASIOX.  ^j^- 

Side  lines  wliicli  liis  overwlielming  and  perpetual  "  mnsl: 
and  shall  "  had  dug  at  either  corner  of  his  firm  but  pas- 
sionate mouth,  recognized  the  master  of  the  liour,  and 
emulated  his  confidence  and  activity.  Like  the  Creoles 
themselves,  brave,  impetuous,  patriotic,  and  a  law  unto 
lumself,  and  jet  supplying  the  qualities  they  lacked  the 
contment  could  hardly  have  furnished  a  man  better  fitted 
to  be  their  chief  in  a  day  of  peril  than  was  Andrew  Jack- 
son. 

Soon  the  wliole  militia  of  citj  and  State  were  added  to 
tlie  hi-st  tlioiisand,  organized  and  ready  to  marcl..     Tliero 
was  anotlier  spring  to  tlieir  tardy  alacrity.    Eigl.ty  British 
ships,  it  was  said,  were  Iwaring  down  toward  Sliip  Islan.l 
Cochr.^,e,  the  scourge  of  the  Atlantic  coast,  was  admiral 
of  the  fleet.     On  the  14th  of  Decen.ber  forty-five  bar-es 
carrynig  foriy-three  gm.s  and  one  thousand  two  Inmd'ed 
Lritish  troops,  engaged  the  weak  American  flotilla  of  six 
s>nall  vessels  near  the  nan-ow  passes  of  Lake  liovme 
There  was  a  short,  gallant  struggle,  and  the  British  L-o 
masters  of  the  lake  and  its  shores. 

Even  then  the  Legislatnre  pronounced  against  Clai- 
borne's recommendation  that  it  declare  martial  law  and 
adjom-n.  But  Jackson  instantly  proclaimed  it  in  rin-in.. 
^vords.  "  The  district's  safety,"  he  said,  "  must  and  wiM  bo 
mamtained  with  the  best  blood  of  the  country,"  and  he 
would  "separate  the  country's  friends  from  its  enemies." 

Measures  of  defence  were  pushed  on.     Forts  and  stock- 
ades were  manned,  new  companies  and  battalions  were 


188  THE  CREOLES  OF  LOUISIANA. 

mustered,  among  them  one  of  Choctaw  Indians  and  two 
of  free  men  of  color.  The  jails  were  emptied  to  swell 
the  ranks. 

And  hereupon  Jolm  Lafitte,  encouraged  by  Claiborne 
and  the  Legislature,  came  forward  again.  Jackson  in  one 
of  his  proclamations  had  called  the  Baratarians  "  hellish 
banditti,"  whose  aid  he  spurned.  But  now  these  two  in- 
trepid leaders  met  face  to  face  in  a  room  that  may  still  be 
pointed  out  in  the  old  cabildo,  and  the  services  of  Lafitte 
and  his  skilled  artillerists  were  offered  and  accepted  for 
the  defence  of  the  city.  All  proceedings  against  them 
were  suspended ;  some  were  sent  to  man  the  siege-guns 
of  Forts  Petites  Coquilles,  St.  John,  and  St.  Philip,  and 
others  were  enrolled  in  a  body  of  artillery  under  "  Cap- 
tains" Beluche  and  Dominique.  One  of  the  General's 
later  reports  alludes  to  the  Baratarians  as  "  these  gentle- 
men." 


XXVII. 

THE  BATTLE  OF  NEW  ORLEANS. 

QXCE  more  the  Creoles  sang  the  "  Marseillaise.-'  The 
invaders  hovering  along  the  marshy  shores  of  Lake 
Borgne  were  fourteen  thousand  strong.  Sii-  Edward 
Packenham,  brother-in-law  to  the  Duke  of  Wellington, 
and  a  gallant  captain,  was  destined  to  lead  them.  Gibbs, 
Lambert,  and  Kean  were  his  generals  of  division.  As  to 
Jackson,  thirty-seven  hundred  Tennesseeans  under  Gen- 
erals CofPee  and  Carroll,  had,  when  it  was  near  Christmas, 
given  him  a  total  of  but  six  thousand  men.  Yet  confi- 
dence, animation,  concord,  and  even  gaiety,  filled  the 
hearts  of  the  mercurial  people. 

"The  citizens,"  says  the  eye-witness,  Latour,  "were 
preparing  for  battle  as  cheerfully  as  for  a  party  of  plea- 
sure. The  streets  resounded  with  *  Yankee  Doodle,' 
'La  Marseillaise,'  *Le  Chant  du  Depart,'  and  other 
martial  airs.  The  fair  sex  presented  themselves  at  the 
windows  and  balconies  to  applaud  the  troops  going 
through  their  evolutions,  and  to  encourage  their  hus- 
bands, sons,  fathers,  and  brothers  to  protect  them  from 
their  enemies." 


190  THE  CREOLES   OF  LOUISIAXA. 

That    enemj,   reconnoitring    on    Lake    Borgne,    soon 
found   in   tlie   niarslies  of  its  extreme  western  end  the 
mouth  of  a   navigable  stream,   the    Bayou   Bienvenue. 
This  water  flowed  into  the  lake  directly  from  the  west— 
tlie  direction  of  Xew  Orleans,  close  behind  whose  lower 
suburb  it  had  its  beginning  in  a  dense  cypress  swamp. 
AVithin  its  mouth  it  was  over  a  hundred  yards  wide,  and 
more  than  six  feet  deep.     As  they  ascended  its  waters, 
everywhere,  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  stretched  only 
the  unbroken  quaking  prairie.     But  soon  they  found  and 
bribed  a  village  of  Spanish  and  Italian  fishermen,  and 
under  their  guidance   explored   the   whole  region.     By 
turning  into  a  smaller  bayou,  a  branch  of  the  first,  the 
Mississippi  was  found  a  very  few  miles  away  on  the  left, 
hidden  from  view  by  a  narrow  belt  of  swamp  and  hurry- 
ing southeastward  toward  the  Gulf.    From  the  plantations 
of  sugar-cane  on  its  border,  various   draining  canals  ran 
back  northward  to  the  bayou,  offering  on  their  margins 
a  fair  though  narrow  walking  way  through  the  wooded 
and  vine-tangled  morass  to  the  open  plains  on  the  river 
shore,  just  below  Xew  Orleans.      By   some  oversight, 
which  has  never  been  explained,  this  easy  route  to  the 
city's  very  outskirts  had  been  left  unobstructed.     On  the 
21st  of  December  some  Creole  scouts  posted  a  picket  at 
the  fishermen's  villag-e. 

The  traveller  on  the  Xew  Orleans  &  Mobile  Railroad, 
as  he  enters  the  southeastern  extreme  of  Louisiana,  gliding 
along  the  low,  wet  prairie  margin  of  the  Gulf,  passes 


THE   HATTLE   OF  NEW   OIILEANS.  IQl 

across  an  island  made  by  the  two  mouths  of  Pearl  Pavor. 
It  rises  just  high  enough  above  the  surrounding  marsh 
to  be  at  times  tolerably  dry  ground.     A  sportsmen's  sta- 
tion on  it  is  called  English  Look-out;  but  the  island  itself 
seems  to  have  quite  lost  its  name.     It  was  known  then  as 
Isle  aux  Poix  (Pea  Island).     Here  on  December  the  21st, 
18U,  the  British  had  been  for  days  disembarking.     Early 
on  the  22d  General  Kean's  division  re-embarked  from  this 
island  in  barges,  shortly  before  dawn  of  the  23d  captured 
the  picket  at  the  fishers'  village,  pushed  on  up  the  bayou, 
turned  to  the  left,  southwestward,  into  the  smaller  bayou 
(Mazant),  entered  the  swamp,  disembarked  once  morJ  at 
the  mouth  of  a  plantation  canal,  marched  southward  along 
its  edge  through  the  wood,  and  a  little  before  noon  emerged 
upon  the  open  plain  of  the  river  shore,  scarcely  seven 
miles  from  Kew  Orleans,  without  a  foot  of  fortification 
between  them  and  the  city.    But  the  captured  pickets  had 
reported  Jackson's  forces  eigliteen  thousand  strong,  and 
the  British  lialted,  greatly  fatigued,  until  they  should  be 
joined  by  other  divisions. 

Kot,  however,  to  rest.  At  about  two  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon,  while  the  people  of  the  city  were  sitting  at 
their  midday  dinner,  suddenly  the  cathedral  bell  staitled 
them  with  its  notes  of  alarm,  drums  sounded  the  long-roll, 
and  as  military  equipments  were  hurriedly  put  on°  and 
Creoles,  Americans,  and  San  Domingans,  swords  and  mus- 
kets in  hand,  poured  in  upon  the  Place  d'Armes  from 
every  direction  and  sought  their  places  in  the  ranks,  word 


102  TlIF   CKEOLES   OF   LOUISIANA. 

passed  from  montli  to  inoiitli  tliat  there  liad  been  a  blun- 
der, and  that  tlie  enemy  was  but  seven  miles  away  in 
force — "  sur  Vhabltation  Villeie  !  *' — "  on  Yillerc's  planta- 
tion !  "  But  courage  was  in  every  heart.  Quickly  the 
lines  were  formed,  the  standards  were  unfurled,  the  huzza 
resounded  as  the  well-known  white  horse  of  Jackson  came 
galloping  down  their  front  with  his  staff — Edward  Living- 
ston and  Abner  Duncan  among  them — at  his  heels,  the 
drums  sounded  quickstep  and  the  columns  moved  down 
through  the  streets  and  out  of  the  anxious  town  to  meet 
the  foe.  In  half  an  hour  after  the  note  of  alarm  the 
Seventh  regulars,  with  two  pieces  of  artillery  and  some 
marines,  had  taken  an  advanced  position.  An  hour  and 
a  half  later  General  Coffee,  with  his  Tennessee  and  Missis- 
sippi cavalry,  took  their  place  along  the  small  Rodriguez 
canal,  that  ran  from  the  river's  levee  to  and  into  the 
swamp,  and  which  afterward  became  Jackson's  permanent 
line  of  defence.  Just  as  the  sun  was  setting  the  troops 
that  had  been  stationed  at  Bayou  St.  John,  a  battalion  of 
free  colored  men,  then  the  Forty-fourth  regulars,  and  then 
the  brightly  uniformed  Creole  battalion,  first  came  into 
town  by  way  of  the  old  Bayou  Road,  and  swept  through  the 
streets  toward  the  enemy  on  the  run,  glittering  with  accou- 
trements and  arms,  under  the  thronged  balconies  and  amid 
the  tears  and  plaudits  of  Creole  mothers  and  daughters. 

Night  came  on,  very  dark.  The  Carolina  dropped  noise- 
lessly down  opposite  the  British  camp,  anchored  close  in 
shore,  and  opened  her  broadsides  and  musketry  at  short 


TinO    IJATTLK   OF    \K\V    OIJLKAXS.  \\K] 

rfiJiM;c.     A  inonieiit  later  Jackson  fell  upon  the  startled 
foo  with  twelve  hnndi-ed  men  and  two  ])iec'es  of  artillery 
striking  them  tirst  near  the  river  shore,   and  prescntlv 
along  their  whole  line.     Coffee,  with  six  hundred   men, 
unseen   in  the  darkness,  issued  from  the  M'oods  on   the 
north,  and  attacked  the  British  right,  just  as  it  was  trvin*-- 
to  turn  Jackson's  left— Creole  troops,  mIiosc  ardor  would 
have  led   them  to  charge  with  the  bayonet,  but  for  the 
prudence  of  the  liegular  officer  in  command.     A  fog  rose, 
the  smoke  of  battle  rested  on  the  field,  the  darkness  thick- 
ened, and  all  was  soon  in  confusion.     Companies  and  bat- 
talions—red  coats,  blue   coats,    Highland    plaidies,    and 
"  dirty  shirts  "  (Tennesseeans),  from  time  to  time  got  lost, 
fired  into  friendly  lines,  or  met  their  foes  in  liand  to  hand 
encounters.     Out  in  the  distant  prairie  behind  the  swamp 
forest  the  second  division  of  tlie  British  coming  on,  heard 
the  battle,  hurried  forward,  and  began  to  reach  the  spot 
while  the  low  plain,  wrapped  in  darkness,  was  still  Hashing' 
with  the  dischai'ge  of  artillery. 

The  engagement  was  soon  over,  without  special  results 
beyond  that  jvesiiy/e  which  mo  may  be  confident  was,  at 
the  moment,  Jackson's  main  aim.  Before  day  he  fell  back 
two  miles,  and  in  the  narrowest  part  of  the  plain,  some 
four  miles  from  town,  began  to  make  Ids  permanent  line 
behind  Rodriguez  Canal. 

Inclement  weather  set  in,  increasing  the  hardships  of 
friend  and  foe.     The  British  toiled   incessantly  in   the 

miry  ground  of  the  sugar-cane  fields  to  bring  up  their 
18 


]i)4  TIFK    ntEOLES    OK    LOIISIA.VA. 

liCJivv  artillerv,  and  botli  sides  crect'.'d  breastworks  and 
batteries,  and  burried  forward  tbeir  re-enforcoments. 
Skinnisliing  Mas  Iretjuent,  an<l  to  Jackson's  I'aw  levies 
verv  valnable.  Ueddiot  sliot  fr(»ni  tlie  Ibitisli  w(»rks  de- 
stroyed  tlie  CdmliiKi  ;  bnt  ber  arnuinient  was  savi'd  and 
made  a  sliore  l)atterv  on  tlicfartlier  river  baidc.  On  ^'ew 
Year's  day  a  lew  bales  oi"  cotton,  forming  part  of  tlie 
Anicrieau  fortifications,  M^cre  scattered  in  all  directions  and 
set  on  lire,  and  tins  was  tbe  first  and  last  use  made  of  tliis 
matei'ial  during  tbe  campaign.  AViien  it  bad  been  called 
to  (ieneral  flackson's  notice  tbat  tbis  cotton  M'as  tbe  prop- 
erty of  a  foreigner, — "'  Givcbim  a  nun  and  let  bim  defend 
it,"  was  bis  answer.  On  tbe  4tb,  two  tbousand  two  bun- 
dred  and  fifty  Kentuckians,  poorly  clad  and  worse  armed 
arrived,  and  sucb  as  bore  serviceable  weapons  raised  Jack- 
sou's  force  to  tbree  tbousand  two  bundred  men  on  bis  main 
line  ;  a  line,  says  tbe  Duke  of  8axe-Weimar,  '•  tbe  very  fee- 
blest an  engineer  could  bave  devised,  tbat  is,  a  straigbt  one." 
Yet  on  tbis  line  tbe  defenders  of  ^'ew  Orleans  were 
about  to  be  victorious.  It  consisted  of  balf  a  mile  of  very 
uneven  eartbworks  strctcbing  across  tbe  plain  along  tbe 
inner  edge  of  tbe  canal,  from  tbe  river  to  tbe  edge  of  tbe 
wood,  and  coutimiing  a  like  distance  into  tbe  forest.  In 
liere  it  quickly  dwindled  to  a  mere  double  row  of  logs  two 
feet  apart,  tilled  in  between  witb  eartb.  Tbe  entire  artil- 
lery on  tbis  wbole  line  was  twelve  pieces.  But  it  was 
served  by  men  of  rare  skill,  artillerists  of  the  regular  army, 
tbe  sailors  of  the  burnt  OaroUna,  some  old  French  soldiers 


Tin:  liAi'i'Li:  ov  nkw  out/kax; 


10.") 


un(U3rT''l!Uijcacoiie(>f  IJonaparto'sgumiors,  and  Doiniiii^iio 
ami  r>L'ludie,  witli  tlie  tried  cannoiieors  of  their  pirate  siiips. 
Fi'oiri  battery  to  battery  tlic  riulc  line  was  tilled  out 
with  a  droll  confusi(»ii  of  arms  and  trappings,  men  and 
dress.  Here  on  the  extreme  right,  just  on  and  under 
the  levee,  were  some  rei^ular  infantry  and  a  comi)anv  of 
''  Oileans  Uitles,"  with  some  dragoons  who  served  a  how- 


itzer. Next  to  them  was  a  battalion  of  Louisiana  Cre- 
oles in  ij-av  and  varied  miiforms.  The  sailors  of  the  Oo'o- 
Una  were  grouped  around  the  battery  between.  In  the 
Creoles"  midst  were  the  swarthy  privateers  with  their  two 
twenty-fours.  Then  came  a  battalion  of  native  men  of 
color,  another  bunch  of  sailors  around  a  thirtv-two- 
pounder,  a  battalion  of  St.  Domingau  mulattoesj  a  stretch 


1-''^  'im;  «'i:i:(»m;s  ok  i.oi  isiaxa. 

(»f  l.lno  fur  HtiiM!  rc^nilar  artillm-  and  tlio  Fortv-fourtli  iii- 
iaiifrv,  tlii'M  riaujcacr  and  Ills  Francs  beliiiid  a  brass 
tAV('Iv(!-}>oim(l('r;  next,  a  I«»n«,^  sIcMidcr  line  of  hiuwn  lionio- 
^nm  liiiiitini^-shirts  tliat  draped  Carroll's  lank  Tcimcs- 
si'cans,  tluMi  a  small,  luinlit  himcli  id"  inariiu's,  then  sojiii; 
iMori'  regular  arfillcrv  hi'lniid  a  l(»nu-  brass  culvoriiie  and  a 
six-ponndor,  tlicn  Adair's  raii^cd  Kentnckians,  and  at  the 
end,  ("ofUr's  TiMnu'ssot'ans,  disai)pi'arini,^  in  tbe  swamp, 
wlicrt'  tlioy  stood  hy  dav  knee-doe])  in  water  and  slept  at 
nii;lit  in  tlio  innd 

AVintry  rains  liad  retarded  every tliiiii;-   in   tlie   Uritish 

eamj),  but  at  lengtli  Laml)ert"s  division  eamc  up,  IVken- 

liani  took  eonimand,   and  ])]ans  wei-e   perfected    for   tlic 

final   attack.      A   narrow  continuation   of    the   canal    bv 

which  the  Kiiiilish  had   come  up  through  the  swamp  to 

its  liead  at  the  rear  of  \'illere"s  i)lantatioii  was  duir,  so  that 

their  boats  could  be  floated  up  to  the  river  front  close 

under  the  back  of  the  levee,  and  then  dra«;ged  over  its 

top  aiul  launched  into  the  rivei-.     The  squalid  iiegresses 

that  fish  for  crawfish  along  its  rauk,  fiowery  banks  still 

call   it,  '-(annal    Packin'ani."     All  night  of  the   Ttli  of 

Jamiary  there  came  to  the  alert  ears  «»f  the  Americans 

across   the    intervening    plain  a   noise    of    getting   boats 

through  this  narrow  passage.      It  was  evident  that  the 

decisive  battle  Mas  impending.      Packenhanrs  intention 

was  to  throw  a  considerable  part  of  his  force  across  the 

river  to  attack  the  effective  marine  battery  abreast  of  the 

American  line,  erected   there   by   Connnodore  Paterson, 


IIIK    I5AI  I'lJ-:    OF    M<:\V    OIM.KANS. 


J  1)7 


wliilo  lio,  oil  till'  liithor  sliore,  imembanassed  bv  its  tiro 
oil  Ills  tlaiik,  should  I'lili  ruriiuisly  upon  .lacksoi  's  niuiii 
line,  ill  tliri'O  iHTpoiidicular  coluimis. 

lint  the  ri\X'r  had  fallen.  Colonel  Thornton,  who  was 
to  lead  the  niovenient  on  the  farther  hank,  was  loiiu-  ^ct- 
tiiiu"  his  l)(»ats  across  the  levee.  The  current,  too,  was  far 
swifter  than  it  hail  seemed.  Eight  priceless  hours  sli}>j»i'(l 
awav  and  ojdv  a  third  of  the  inti'iided  I'orce  crossed. 


*^^   ■■y'A  ^^MaM    n 

iKiirrBfiiiiiBinA    r^' 

!? 

*'^    '^^£^    5^#J"     ^       ^S 

-".      --v:!.:        —                     "^ 

•*SJ^      '      "^ 

!'^  ...jmm     "-''"-   '   ~~  ~  " 

'  -T^  ^^:— 

«i 

Packenham's  Headquarters  (from  the   rear) 


A  little  before  daybrealv  of  the  sth,  the  I'.ritish  main 
force  moved  out  of  camp  and  spread  across  the  })lain,  six 
thousand  strong,  the  Americans  in  fr(»nt,  the  river  on 
their  left,  and  the  swamp-forest  on  their  right.  They  bad 
])lanned  to  begin  at  one  signal  the  three  attacks  on  the 
nearer  and  the  i>ne  on  the  farther  shore.  The  air  was 
chilly  and  obscure.  A  mist  was  slowly  clearing  off  from 
the  wet  and  slippery  ground.  A  dead  silence  reigned ; 
but  in  that  mist  and  silence  their  enemy  was  waiting  for 


198  THE  CREOLES   OF  LOUISIANA. 

them.  Presently  day  broke  rind  rapidly  brightened,  the 
mist  lifted  a  little  and  the  red  lines  of  the  British  were  fit- 
fully descried  from  the  American  works.  Outside  the  levee 
the  wide  riv^r  and  farther  shore  were  quite  hidden  by  the 
fo*^  which  now  and  then  floated  hitherward  over  the  land. 

Packenhani  was  listening  for  the  attack  of  Colonel 
Thornton  on  the  opposite  bardv,  that  was  to  relieve  his 
main  assault  from  the  cross-fire  of  Paterson's  marine  bat- 
tery. The  sun  rose ;  but  he  heard  nothing.  He  waited 
till  half -past  seven  ;  still  there  was  no  sound. 

Meanwhile  the  Americans  lay  in  their  long  trench, 
peering  over  their  sorry  breastworks,  and  wondering 
at  the  inaction.  But  at  length  Packenham  could  wait  no 
longer.  A  British  rocket  went  np  near  the  swamp.  It 
was  the  siy-nal  for  attack.  A  sins-le  cannon-shot  answered 
from  the  Americans,  and  the  artillery  on  both  sides 
opened  with  a  frightful  roar.  On  eTackson's  extreme  left, 
some  black  troops  of  the  British  force  made  a  feint 
against  the  line  in  the  swanip  and  were  easily  repulsed. 
On  his  right,  near  the  river,  the  enemy  charged  in  solid 
column,  impetuously,  upon  a  redoubt  just  in  advance  of 
the  YiuG.  Twice  only  the  redoubt  could  reply,  and  the 
British  were  over  and  inside  and  pressing  on  to  scale  the 
breastwork  behind.  Their  brave  and  much-loved  Colonel 
Rennie  was  leading  them.  But  on  the  top  of  the  works 
lie  fell  dead  with  the  hurrah  on  his  lips,  and  they  were 
driven  back  and  out  of  the  redoubt  in  confusion. 

Meantime  the  main  attack  was  being  made  in  the  open 


THE   ]JATTLE   OF   :iEW   OKLEAXS.  10<) 

plain  near  the  edge  of  the  swamp.     Some  four  Iiuiu^ichI 
yards  in  front  of  tlie  American  works  lay  a  ditch.     IJerc 
tlie  English  formed  in  close  colunm  of  "about  sixty  men 
front.     They  should  have  laid  off  their  heavy  knapsacks, 
for  they  were  loaded   besides  with  big  fascines  of  ripe 
sugar-cane  for  filling  up  the  American   ditch,  and  with 
scaling  ladders.      But  with  nu.skets,  knapsacks  and  all, 
they  gave  three  cheers  and  advanced.     Before  them  went 
a  shower  of   Congreve   rockets.     For   a    time  they  were 
partly  covered  by  an  arm  of  the  forest  and  hy  the  fog,  but 
soon  they  emerged  from  both  and  moved  steadily  fonvaid 
in  perfect  ordei-,  literally  led  to  the  slaughter  in  the  brave 
old  British  way. 

"Where  are  you  going?  "  asked  one  English  officer  of 
another. 

"  I'll  be  hanged  if  I  know." 

"  Then,"  said  the  first,  "  jou  have  got  into  what  I  call 
a  good  thing;  afar-famed  American  battery  is  in  front 
of  you  at  a  short  range,  and  on  the  left  of  this  spot  is 
flanked,  at  jight  hundred  yards,  by  their  batteries  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  river." 

"The  first  objects  we  saw,  enclosed  as  it  were  hi  this 
little  world  of  mist,"  says  this  eye-witness,  "  were  the  can- 
non-balls tearing  up  the  ground  and  crossing  one  another, 
and  bounding  along  like  so  many  ci-icket-balls  through  the 
air,  coming  on  our  left  flank  from  the  American  baUeries 
on  the  right  bank  of  the  river,  and  also  from  their  lines  in 
front." 


20()  THE  eUEOLES   OF   LOUISIANA. 

The  musketry  lire  of  the  Americans,  as  well  as  the  ar- 
tillery, was  given  with  terrible  precision.  Unhappily  for 
the  English  they  had  singled  out  for  their  attack  those 
homely-clad  men  whom  they  had  nick-named  the  "  Dirty- 
shirts,'' — the  ritlemen  of  Kentucky  and  Tennessee — In- 
dian fighters,  that  never  fired  but  on  a  selected  victim. 
Flaujeac's  battery  tore  out  whole  files  of  men.  Yet  the 
brave  foe  came  on,  veterans  from  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope 
and  from  the  Spanish  Peninsula,  firndy  and  measuredly, 
and  a  few  platoons  had  even  reached  the  canal,  when  the 
colunni  faltered,  gave  way,  and  fied  precipitately  back  to 
the  ditch  where  it  had  first  formed. 

Here  there  was  a  rally.  The  knapsacks  were  taken  off. 
lie-enforcements  came  up.  The  first  charge  had  been  a 
dreadful  mistake  in  its  lack  of  speed.  Xow  the  start  was 
quicker  and  in  less  order,  but  again  in  the  fatal  columnar 
form. 

"  At  a  run,"  writes  the  participant  already  quoted,  "  we 
neared  the  American  line.  The  mist  was  now  rapidly 
clearing  away,  but,  owing  to  the  dense  smoke,  we  could 
not  at  first  distinguish  the  attacking  column  of  the  British 
troops  to  our  right.  .  .  .  The  echo  from  the  can- 
nonade and  musketry  was  so  tremendous  in  the  forests 
that  the  vibration  seemed  as  if  the  earth  were  crackinjr 
and  tumbling  to  pieces.  .  .  .  The  flashes  of  fire 
looked  as  if  coming  out  of  the  bowels  of  the  earth,  so  little 
above  its  surface  were  the  batteries  of  the  Americans." 
Packenhani  led  the  van.     On  a  black  horse,  in  brilliant 


THE   BATTLE   OF   NEW    ORLEANS. 


201 


uniform,  waving  his  hat  and  cheering  the  onset,  he  was  a 
mark  the  backwoodsmen  could  not  miss.  Soon  he  reeled 
and  fell  from  his  horse  with  a  mortal  wound;  Gibbs fol- 
lowed him.  Then  Ivean  was  struck  and  borne  from  the 
field  with  many  others  of  high  rank,  and  the  colunni  again 
recoiled  and  fell  back,  tinallj  discomfited. 

"  Did  you  ever  see  such  a  scene  ? "  cried  one  of  I*acken- 
ham's  staff.  "  There  is  nothing  left  but  the  Seventh  and 
Foi'tv-third '. "' 


"iw'ir  J  I'  "■'■'wiu^ 


^t.^-feiJ,,;'.!^- 


riiriir.ajmMfcuiit^'''iiw'.'«v:rii  t-i-linA 


The  Battle-Ground. 


"  They  fell,"  says  another  Englishnum,  "  like  the  very 
blades  of  grass  beneath  the  scythe  of  the  mower.  Seven- 
teen hundred  and  eighty-one  victims,  including  three 
generals,  seven  colonels,  and  seventy-five  lesser  officers, 
were  the  harvest  of  those  few  minutes." 

At  length  the  American  musketry  ceased.  Only  the  bat- 
teries were  answering  shot  for  shot,  when  from  the  further 
side  of  the  Mississippi  came,  all  too  late,  a  few  reports  of 


202 


THE   CKEOLES   OF   LOUISIANA. 


cannon,  a  sliort,  brisk  rattle  of  fire-arms,  a  hnsh,  and  three 
British  clieers  to  tell  that  the  few  raw  American  troops  on 
that  side  had  been  overpowered,  and  that  Paterson's  bat- 
tery, prevented  from  defending  itself  by  the  blundering  of 
the  militia  in  its  front,  had  been  spiked  and  abandoned. 

The  batteries  of  the  British  line  continued  to  fire  until 
two  in  the  afternoon ;  but  from  the  first  signal  of  the  morn- 
ing to  the  abandonment  of  all  effort  to  storm  the  American 
works  M-as  but  one  hour,  and  the  battle  of  Xew  Orleans 
was  over  at  half-past  eight.  General  Lambert  reported 
the  British  loss  two  thousand  and  seventeen ;  Jackson,  the 
American  at  six  killed  and  seven  wounded. 

From  the  0th  to  the  ISth  four  British  vessels  bom- 
barded Fort  St.  Philip  without  result :  on  the  mornintr  of 
the  19th  the  British  camp  in  front  of-  Jackson  was  found 
deserted,  and  eight  days  later  the  last  of  the  enemies' 
forces  embarked  from  the  shores  of  Lake  Boro-ne 

The  scenes  of  ti-iumphant  rejoicing,  the  hastily  erected 
arches  in  the  Place  d'Armes,  the  symbolical  impersona- 
tions, the  myriads  of  banners  and  pennons,  the  columns  of 
victorious  troops,  the  crowded  balconies,  the  rain  of  flowers 
in  a  town  where  flowers  never  fail,  the  huzzas  of  the 
thronging  populace,  the  salvos  of  artillery,  the  garland- 
crowned  victor,  and  the  ceremonies  of  thanksgiving  in  the 
solemn  cathedral,  form  a  part  that  may  be  entrusted  to  the 
imagination.  One  purpose  and  one  consummation  made 
one  jieople,  and  little  of  sorrow  and  naught  of  discord  in 
that  hour  mingled  with  the  joy  of  deliverance. 


XXVIII. 

THE    EXD    OF    THE    PIRATES. 

]V^EWORLEAXS  emerged  from  the  smoke  of  battle 
comparatively  Americanized.     Peace  followed,  or 
rather  the  tardy  news  of  peace,  which  had  been  sealed  at 
Ghent  more  than   a  fortnight  before   the  battle.     With 
peace  came  open   ports.      The  highways  of  commercial 
greatness  crossed  each  other  in  the  custom-house,  not  be- 
hind it  as  in  Spanish  or  embargo  days,  and  the  Baratari- 
ans  were  no  longer  esteemed  a  public  necessity.   Scattei-ed, 
used,  and  pardoned,  they  passed  into  eclipse-not  total,' 
but  fatally  dark  where  they  most  desired  to  shine      The 
ill-founded  tradition   that  the  Lafittes  were  never  seen 
after  the  battle  of  ^e^y  Orleans  had  thus  a  figurative 
reality. 

In  Jackson's  general  order  of  January  21st,  Captains 
Dominique  and  Beluche,  "with  part  of  their  former 
crew,"  were  gratefully  mentioned  for  their  gallantry  in 
the  field,  and  the  brothers  Lafitte  for  "  the  same  coura-e 
and  fidelity."  On  these  laurels  Dominique  You  rested 
and  settled  down  to  quiet  life  in  Xew  Orleans,  enjoyin- 
the  vulgar  admiration  which  is  given  to  the  survivor  of 


204 


TIIK   (KKOLKS   OF    L(>UISIAXA. 


lawless  adventures.     It  may  seem  siipertliious  to  add  tliat 
he  became  a  leader  in  ward  politics. 

In  the  spring  of  1815,  ffackson,  for  certain  imprison- 
ments of  men  who  boldly  o})posed  the  severity  of  his  pro- 
longed dictatorship  in  >»ew  Orleans,  was  forced  at  length 


Old  Spanish  Cottage  in  Royal  Street,  Scene  of  Andrew  Jackson's  Trial. 

to  regard  the  decrees  of  court.  It  was  then  that  the 
"hellish  banditti,"  turned  '•  Jacksonites,"  did  their  last 
swaggering  in  the  famous  Exchange  Coffee-liouse,  at  the 
corner  of  St.  Louis  and  Chartres  Streets,  and  when  he  was 
lined  $1,000  foi'  contempt  of  court,  aided  in  drawing  his 
carriage  by  hand  through  the  streets. 


■illK  END  OK  Tin;   I'TUArKS.  O0.5 

Of  Belnehe  or  „f  Pienc  Ufitte  little  or  nothing  more 
.^  -"own.     But  Join,  Ufitte  eo,.ti„„o,l  to  i.ave  a  record. 
After  the  e,t/s  deliverance  a  ball  was  give,,  to  office's  of 
he  ar,.,,..     Oe„e,-al  Coffee  wa.  ,„.e.e„t.     So,  too,  ..,  La- 
fttte^  ()„  the,r  bo,,,.  h,.o„.ht  together  a„d  iufodaced, 
tl.e  Ge„e,-al   showed  so,„e  hositatio,,  of  ,.,a„„e,-,  whce- 
"pon  the  testy  JJa,-ataria,.  adva„ced  haughtily  a„d  said. 
«-,tl,  e,„phasis,  "  Latitte,  the  ph-ate.''    Thus,  „„co„scio„slv, 
|t  -nay  I,e,hefo,-etoid  that  part  of  his  life  which  still  la'J 
1,1  the  f„tu,-e.  ' 

That  fut„,-e  belougs  p,-operly  to  the  historv  of  Texa. 
Ga  vesto,.  Islaud  had  ea,-ly  bee,,  one  of  LafittVs  stations,' 
and  now  beca,ne  his  per„,unent  depot,  when..e  he  ca,-ried 
on  extensive  ope,-atio„s,  c„nt,-aband  and  pi.-atical.  His 
pnncpal  c-uiser  was  the  Jupit,,..  She  sailed  „n,ler  a  Tex- 
an eonunission.  Under  the  filibuster  Long,  who  ,„led  at 
iSacogdoches,  Lafitto  became  Govcnor  of  (iaheston 

An  A,nerican  ship  was  i^obbed  of  a  ,,„antitv  of  specie 
on  the  high  seas.     Sho,-tly  afterward  the  Jupiter  ca„,o 
into  (ialvoston  with  a  siniilar  quantity  on  boa,-d.     A  Unit 
ed  States  cruiser  accordingly  w.as  sent  to  lay  off  the  coast 
and  watch  her  n,a„«,„v,-es.     ],atitte  took  offence  at  this' 
and  sent  to  the  Ainc^ican  co,n,„a„der  to  don.and  explana- 
tion.    ll,s  lette,-,  ,na,-ked  with  „.o,-e  haughtiness,  as  well 
as  w,th  ,nore  iIl-conceale.l  cu,„,i„g  than  his  eai'lier  con^e- 
spondenee  «-itl,  the  British  and  An,e,-ica„s,  was  not  an- 
swered. 

Tn  ISIS  a  storm  destroyed  four  of  his  fleet.     He  sent 


2<)()  THE   CKKOLES   OF    LOUISIANA. 

one  Lafagc  to  New  Orleans,  who  brought  out  thence  a 
new  schooner  of  two  guns,  manned  by  fifty  men.  He 
presently  took  a  prize ;  but  had  hardly  done  so,  when  he 
was  met  by  the  revenue  cutter  Alaknna,  answered  her 
challenge  with  a  broadside,  engaged  her  in  a  hard  battle, 
and  only  surrendered  after  heavy  loss.  The  schooner  and 
prize  were  carried  into  Bayou  St.  John,  the  crew  taken  to 
Xew  Orleans,  tried  in  the  United  States  Court,  condemned 
and  executed, 

Once  more  Lafittc  took  the  disguise  of  a  Colombian 
connnission  and  fitted  out  three  vessels.  The  name  of  one 
is  not  known.  Another  was  the  General  Victoria,  and  a 
third  the  schooner  Blank— ov,  we  may  venture  to  spell 
it  Blanqae.  lie  coasted  westward  and  southward  as  far 
as  Sisal,  Yucatan,  taking  several  small  prizes,  and.one  that 
was  verv  valuable,  a  schooner  that  had  been  a  slaver. 
Thence  lie  turned  toward  Cape  Antonio,  Cuba,  and  in  the 
open  Gulf  disclosed  to  his  followers  that  his  Colombian 
commission  had  expired. 

Forty-one  men  insisted  on  leaving  him.  He  removed 
the  guns  of  the  General  Victoria,  crippled  her  rigging, 
and  gave  her  into  their  hands.  They  sailed  for  the  Mis- 
sissippi, and  after  three  weeks  arrived  there  and  surren- 
dered to  the  officers  of  the  customs.  The  Spanish  Consul 
claimed  the  vessel,  but  she  was  decided  to  belong  to  the 
men  who  had  fitted  her  out. 

Lafitte  seems  now  to  have  become  an  open  pirate.  V^il- 
lere,  Governor  of  Louisiana  after  Claiborne,  and  the  same 


THK   KXI)   OF   THE    PIKATKS.  007 

wlio  liad  counselled  the  acceptiuico  of  LaiitteV  first  over- 
tures in  ISII),  s])oke  in  no  measured  terms  of  ^' those  men 
wlio  lately,  under  the  false  pretext  of  serving  the  cause  of 
the  Spanish  patriots,  scoured  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  makin.^ 
Its  waves  groan,"  etc.  It  seems  many  of  them  ha<l  found 
liomes  in  Xew  Orleans,  nuiking  it  "the  seat  of  disorders 
and  crnnes  which  he  would  not  attempt  to  descril.e." 

The  end  of  this  uncommon  man  is  lost  hi  a  confusion 
of  unprobable  traditions.  As  late  as  1S22  his  name,  if  not 
his  person,  was  the  terror  of  the  Gulf  and  the  Straits  of 
]^  londa.  But  in  that  year  the  irnited  States  Xavy  swept 
those  waters  with  vigor,  and  presently  reduced  the  perils 
of  the  Gulf-for  the  first  time  in  its  history-to  the 
Jiazard  of  wind  and  wave. 

A  few  steps  down  the  central  walk  of  the  middle  ceme- 
tery of  those  that  lie  along  Claiborne  Street  from  Custom- 
house down  to  Conti,  on  the  right-hand  side,  stands  the 
low,  stuccoed  tond)  of  Dominique  You.     The  tablet  bears 
liis  name  surmounted  by  the  end^Iem  of  Free  Masonry. 
Some  one  takes  good  care  of  it.     An  epitaph  below  pro- 
claims  him,  in  French  verse,  the  "intrepid  hero  of  a  hun- 
dred battles  on  land  and  sea ;  who,  without  fear  and  with- 
out reproach,  will  one  day  view,  unmoved,  the  destruction 
of  the  world."     To  this  spot,  in  1830,  he  was  followed  on 
Ins  way  by  the  Louisiana  Legion  (city  militia),  and  laid  to 
rest  with  military  honors,  at   the   expense  of  the  town 
council. 

Governor  Claiborne  left  the  executive  ehaii-  in  1816  to 


208 


TIIK   CUEOLES    OF   LOUISIAXA. 


represent  the  State  in  the  United  States  Senate.  His  suc- 
cessor was  a  Creole,  the  son,  as  we  luive  seen,  of  that  fierv 
Villere  who  in  ITOD  had  died  in  Spanish  captivity  one  of 
tlie  very  earliest  martyrs  to  the  spirit  of  American  free- 


>-' 


•  "M-'f^i^-^ 


Tomb  of  Governor  Claiborne's  Family, 
[From  a  Photograph  .^ 

dom.  Claiborne  did  not  live  out  the  year,  but  in  the  win- 
ter died.  In  the  extreme  rear  of  the  old  St.  Louis  ceme- 
tery on  Basin  Street,  ^N^ew  Orleans,  in  an  angle  of  its  high 
brick  wall,  shut  off  from  the  rest  of  the  place  by  a  rude, 
low  fence  of  cypress  palisades,  is  a  narrow  piece  of  uncon- 


THE   E\D   OF   THE    PIRATES.  0()jj 

secrated  ground  wliei-o  tlie  tombs  of  some  of  New  Orleans' 
noblest  dead  are  huddled  together  in  miserable  oblivion. 
Rank  weeds  and  poisonous  vines  have  so  choked  up  the 
whole  place,  that  there  is  no  way  for  the  foot  but  over  the 
tops  of  the  tombs,  and  one  who  ventures  thus,  nnist  be- 
ware of  snakes  at  every  step.     In  the  midst  of  this  spot 
is  the  tomb  of  Eliza  Washington  Claiborne,  the  Gover- 
nor's first  wife,  of  her  child  of  three  years  who  died  the 
same  day  as  she,  and  of  his  secretary,  her  brother,  of 
twenty-five,  who  a  few  months  later  fell   in  a  duel,  the 
rash  victim  of  insults  heaped  upon  his  sister's  husband 
through  the  public  press.     Near  by,  just  within  the  pick- 
eted enclosure,  the  sexton  has  been  for  years  making  a 
heap  of  all  manner  of  grave-yard  rubbish,  and  under  that 
pile  of  old  coffin  planks,  broken-glass,  and  crockery,  tin- 
cans,  and  rotting  evergreens,  lie  the  tomb  and  tlie  ashes  of 
William  Charles  Cole  Claiborne,  Governor  of  Louisiana. 
14 


XXIX. 

FAUBOURG  STE.  MARIE. 

"TF  one  will  stand  to-daj  on  the  broad  levee  at  Xew  Or- 
leans,  with  his  bac'k  to  the  Mississippi,  a  short  way 
out  to  the  left  and  riverwurd  from  the  spot  where  the  long- 
vanished  little  Fort  St.  Louis  once  made  pretence  of  guard- 
ing the  town's  upper  river  corner,  he  will  look  down  two 
streets  at  once.  They  are  Canal  and  Connnon,  which 
gently  diverge  from  their  starting-point  at  his  feet  and 
narrow  away  before  his  eye  as  they  run  down  toward  the 
low,  unsettled  lots  and  commons  behind  the  city. 

Canal  Street,  the  centre  and  pride  of  Xew  Orleans,  takes 
its  name  from  the  slimy  old  moat  that  once  festered  under 
the  palisade  wall  of  the  Spanish  town,  where  it  ran  back 
from  river  to  swamp  and  turned  northward  on  the  line 
now  marked  by  the  beautiful  tree-planted  Rampart  Street. 

Connnon  Street  marks  the  ancient  boundary  of  the  es- 
tates wrested  from  the  exiled  Jesuit  fathers  by  confisca- 
tion. In  the  beginning  of  the  present  century,  the  long 
wedge-shaped  tract  between  these  two  lines  was  a  Govern- 
ment reservation,  kept  for  the  better  efficiency  of  the  for- 
tifications  that  overlooked  its  lower  border  and  for  a 


FAUBOrK(J    STE.    MARIK.  Oj] 

public  road  to  No-iium's   laud.     It  was  called  the  Terrc 
Conuuuue. 

That  part  of  tlie  Jesuits'  foruier  plantatious  that  lay 
next  to  the  Terro  Couiuiuue  was  niaiuly  the  property  of  a 
singular  personage  uauied  Jean  Gravier.  Its  farther-side 
boundary  was  on  a  line  now  indicated  by  Delord  Street. 
When  the  lire  of  1788  laid  nearly  the  half  of  New  Orleans 
in  ashes,  his  father,  Hertrand,  and  his  mother,  ]\[arie,  had 
laid  off  this  tract  into  lots  and  streets,  to  the  depth  of  tliree 
sciuares  backward  from  the  river,  and  called  it  Villa  Gra- 
vier. On  her  death,  the  name  was  changed  in  her  honor, 
and  so  became  the  Faubourg  8te.  Marie. 

Capitalists  had  smiled  upon  the  adventure.  Julian  Poy- 
dras,  Claude  Girod,  Julia  a  free  woman  of  color,  and 
others  had  given  names  to  its  cross-streets  by  buying  cor- 
ner-lots on  its  river-front.  Along  this  front,  under  the 
breezy  levee,  ran  the  sunny  and  dusty  Tchoupitoulas  road, 
entering  the  town's  southern  river-side  gate,  where  a 
sentry-box  and  Spanish  corporal's  guard  drowsed  in  the 
scant  shadow  of  Fort  St.  Louis.  Outside  the  levee  the 
deep  Mississippi  glided,  turbid,  silent,  often  overbrimmincr, 
with  many  a  swirl  and  upw^ard  heave  of  its  boiling  depths, 
and  turning,  sent  a  long  smooth  eddy  back  along  this 
"  making  bank,"  w^liile  its  main  current  hurried  onward, 
townward,  northward,  as  if  it  would  double  on  invisible 
pursuers  before  it  swept  to  the  east  and  southeast  from 
the  Place  d'xVrmes  and  disappeared  behind  the  low  groves 
of  Slaughterhouse  Point. 


212  THE   CREOLES    OF   LOUISIANA. 

In  the  opening  years  of  the  century  only  an  occasional 
villa  and  an  isolated  roadside  shop  or  two  had  arisen  along 
the  front  of  Faubourg  Ste.  Marie  and  in  the  first  street 
behind.  Calle  (lei  Almazen,  the  Spanish  notary  wrote 
this  street's  name,  for  its  lower  (northern)  end  looked 
across  the  Terre  Commune  upon  the  large  Almazen  or 
store-house  of  Kentucky  tobacco  which  Don  Estevan  Miro 
thought  it  wise  to  keep  filled  with  purchases  from  the  per- 
fidious Wilkinson.  Rue  du  Magasin,  Storehouse  Street, 
the  Creoles  translated  it,  and  the  Americans  made  it  Mag- 
azine Street ;  but  it  was  still  only  a  straight  road.  Truck- 
gardens  covered  the  fertile  arpents  between  and  beyond. 
Here  and  there  was  a  grove  of  wide-spreading  live-oaks, 
here  and  there  a  clump  of  persimmon  trees,  here  and  there 
an  orchard  of  figs,  here  and  there  an  avenue  of  bitter 
oranges  or  of  towering  pecans.  The  present  site  of  the 
"  St.  Charles "  was  a  cabbage-garden.  Midway  between 
Poydras  and  Girod  Streets,  behind  Magazine,  lay  a  canvpo 
de  negros,  a  slave  camp,  probably  of  cargoes  of  Guinea  or 
Congo  slaves.  The  street  that  cut  through  it  became  Calle 
del  Campo — Camp  Street. 

Far  back  in  the  rear  of  these  lands,  on  the  old  Poydras 
draining  canal,  long  since  filled  up  and  built  upon — in  a 
lonely,  dreary  waste  of  weeds  and  bushes  dotted  thick 
with  cypress  stumps  and  dwarf  palmetto,  full  of  rankling 
ponds  choked  with  bulrushes,  flags,  and  pickerel-weed, 
fringed  by  willows  and  reeds,  and  haunted  by  frogs, 
snakes,  crawfish,  rats,  and  mosquitoes,  ou  the  edge  of  the 


FAUBOURrr  STE.   MARIE.  213 

tangled   swamp  forest— stood   the  dilapidated   home    of 
"Doctor"  Gravier.     It  stood  on  high  pillars.     Its  win- 
dows and  doors  were  lofty  and  wide,  its  verandas  were 
broad,  its  roof  was  steep,  its  chimneys  were  tall,  and  its 
occnpant  was  a  childless,  wifeless,  companionless  old  man, 
whose  kindness  and  medical  attention  to  negroes  liad  woii 
him  his  professional  title.     He  claims  mention  as  a  type 
of  that  strange  group  of  men  which  at  this  early  period 
figured  here  as  the  shrewd  acquirers  of  wide  suburban 
tracts,  leaders  of  lonely  lives,  and  leavers  of  great  fortunes. 
John  McDonough,  who  at  this  time  was  a  young  -man, 
a  thrifty  trader  in  Guinea  negroes,  and  a  suitor  for  the 
hand  of  Don  Andreas  Almonaster's  fair  daughter,  the  late 
Baroness  Pontalba,  be-^ame  in  after  days  a  like  solitary 
type  of  the  same  class.    Jean  Gravier's  house  long  sur- 
vived him,  a  rendezvous  for  desperate  characters,  mid,  if 
rumor  is  correct,  the  scene  of  many  a  terrible  murder.  ' 

In  the  favoring  eddy  under  the  river-bank  in  front  of 
Faubourg  Ste.  Marie  landed  the  flat-boat  fleets  from  the 
Ohio,    the    Tennessee,   and    the    Cumberland.      Buyers 
crowded  here  for  cheap  and  fresh  provisions.     The  huge, 
huddled  arks  became  a  floating  market-place,  with  the 
kersey-  and  woolsey-  and  jeans-clad  bargemen  there,  and 
the  Creole  and  his  sometimes  brightly  clad  and  sometimes 
picturesquely  ragged  slave  here,  and  the  produce  of  the 
West  changing  hands  between.     But  there  was  more  than 
this.    Warehouses  began  to  appear  on  the  edge  of  Tchou- 
pitoulas  road,  and  barrels  of  pork  and  flour  and  meal  to 


214  THE   CREOLES   OF   LOUISIANA. 

run  bickering  down  into  their  open  doors  from  the  levee's 
top.  Any  eye  could  see  tliat,  only  let  war  cease,  there 
would  be  a  wonderful  change  in  the  half-drained,  sun- 
baked marshes  and  kitchen-gardens  of  Faubourg  Ste. 
Marie. 

Presently  the  change  came.  It  outran  the  official  news 
of  j)eace.  "  Our  harbor,"  wrote  Claiborne,  the  Governor, 
in  March,  1815,  "  is  again  whitening  with  canvas ;  the 
levee  is  crowded  with  cotton,  tobacco,  and  other  articles 
for  exportation." 

A  full  sunrise  of  prosperity  shone  upon  New  Orleans. 
The  whole  great  valley  above  began  to  till  up  with  won- 
derful speed  and  to  pour  down  into  her  lap  the  fruits  of 
its  agriculture.  Thirty-three  thousand  people  were  astir 
in  her  homes  and  streets.  They  overran  the  old  bounds. 
They  pulled  up  the  old  palisade.  They  shovelled  the  earth- 
works into  the  moat  and  pushed  their  streets  out  into  the 
fields  and  thickets.  In  the  old  narrow  ways — and  the 
wider  new  ones  alike — halls,  churches,  schools,  stores, 
warehouses,  banks,  hotels,  and  theatres  sprang  up  by  day 
and  night. 

Faubourg  Ste.  Marie  outstripped  all  other  quarters. 
The  unconservative  American  was  everywhere,  but  in 
Faubourg  Ste,  Marie  he  was  supreme.  The  Western  trade 
crowded  down  like  a  breaking  up  of  ice.  In  1817, 
1,500  flat-boats  and  500  barges  tied  up  to  the  willows  of 
the  levee  before  the  new  faubourg.  Inflation  set  in.  Ex- 
ports ran  up  to  thirteen  million  dollars'  worth. 


FAUIJOUKG   STE.    MAIUK.  OJ5 

In  1819  came  the  collapse,  but  development  overrode  it. 
Large  areas  of  the  hatture  were  reclaiiried  in  front  of  the 
faubourg,  and  the  Americans  covered  them  witli  store 
buildings.  In  1812,  the  first  steam  vessel  had  come  down 
the  Mississippi;  in  1810,  for  the  first  time,  one  overcame 
and  reascended  its  current ;  in  1821,  441  fiat-boats  and  174 
barges  came  to  port,  and  there  were  287  arrivals  of  steam- 
boats. 

The  kitchen-gardens  vanished.   Gravier  Street,  between 
Tchoupitoulas    and    Magazine,  was    paved    with    cobble- 
stones.     The  Creoles  laughed  outright.     "  A  stone  pave- 
ment in  ^^ew  Orleans  soil  ?     It  will  sink  out  of  sight !  " 
I3ut  it  bore  not  only  their  ridicule,  but  an  uproat-  and 
gorge  of  wagons  and  drajs.     There  was  an  avalanche  of 
trade.     It  crammed  the  whole  harbor-front— old  town  and 
new-with  river  and  ocean  fieets.     It  choked  the  streets. 
The  cry  was  for  room  and  facilities.     The  Creoles  heeded 
it.     Up  came  their  wooden  sidewalks  and  curbs,  brick  and 
stone  went  down  in  their  place,  and  by  1822  gangs  of 
street  paviors  were  seen  and  heard  here,  there,  and  yonder, 
swinging  the  pick  and  ramming  the  roundstone.     There' 
were  then  41,000  people  in  the  town  and  its  suburbs. 

The  old  population  held  its  breath.  It  clung  bravely  to 
the  failing  trades  of  the  West  Indies,  France,  and  Spain. 
Coffee,  indigo,  sugar,  rice,  and  foreign  fruits  and  wines 
were  still  handled  in  the  Rues  Toulouse,  Conti,  St.  Louis, 
Chartres,  St.  Peter,  and  Royale ;  but  the  lion's  share-^ 
the  cotton,  the  tobacco,  pork,  beef,  corn,  fiour,  and  north- 


210  THE  CREOLES   OP  LOUISIANA. 

ern  and  British  fabrics— poured  into  and  out  of  Faubourg 
Ste.  Marie  through  tlie  hands  of  the  swarming  Americans. 
"  Xevv  Orleans  is  going  to  be  a  mighty  city,"  said  they 
in  effect,  "  and  we  are  going  to  be  Kew  Orleans."  But 
the  Creole  was  still  powerful,  and  jealous  of  everything 
that  hinted  of  American  absorption.  We  have  seen  that, 
ill  1816,  he  elected  one  of  his  own  race,  General  Villere,  to 
succeed  Claiborne  in  the  governor's  chair,  and  to  guard  the 
rights  that  headlong  Americans  might  forget.  "  Indeed," 
this  governor  wrote  in  a  special  message  on  the  "  scan- 
dalous practices  almost  every  instant  taking  place  in  Kew 
Orleans  and  its  suburbs  " — "  Indeed,  we  should  be  cautious 
in  receiving  all  foreigners."  That  caution  was  of  little 
avail. 


XXX. 

A  HUNDRED  THOUSAND  PEOPLE. 

■"^^IIAT  a  change !  The  same  Governor  Villere  could 
not  but  say,  "  The  Louisianian  who  retraces  the 
condition  of  his  country  under  the  government  of  kings 
can  never  cease  to  bless  the  day  when  the  great  Americrn 
confederation  received  him  into  its  bosom."  It  was  easy 
for  Louisianians  to  be  Americans ;  but  to  let  Americans  be 
Louisianians!— there  was  the  rub.  Yet  it  had  to  be.  In  ten 
years,  the  simple  export  and  import  trade  of  the  port  had 
increased  fourfold  ;  and  in  the  face  of  inundations  and 
pestilences,  discord  of  sentiment  and  tongues,  and  the  sad- 
dest of  public  morals  and  disorder,  the  population  had 
nearly  doubled. 

Nothing  could  stop  the  inflow  of  people  and  wealth.  In 
the  next  ten  years,  1820-30,  trade  increased  to  one  and 
three-quarters  its  already  astonishing  volume.  The  inhab- 
itants were  nearly  50,000,  and  the  strangers  from  all  parts 
of  America  and  the  commercial  world  were  a  small  army. 
Sometimes  there  would  be  live  or  six  thousand  up-river 
bargemen  in  town  at  once,  wild,  restless,  and  unemployed. 
On  the  levee  especially  this  new  tremendous  life   and 


218  THE  CKEOLES   OF  LOUISIANA. 

energy  heaved  and  palpitated.  Between  1831  and  1835, 
the  mere  foreign  exports  and  imports  ran  up  from  twenty- 
six  to  nearly  fifty-four  million  dollars.  There  were  no 
wharves  built  out  into  the  harbor  yet,  and  all  the  vast 
mass  of  produce  and  goods  lay  out  under  the  open  sky  on 
the  long,  wide,  unbroken  level  of  the  curving  harbor-front, 
"whei-e  Ohio  bargemen,  (lermans,  Mississippi  raftsmen, 
Irishmen,  French,  English,  Creoles,  Yankees,  and  negro 
and  mulatto  slaves  surged  and  jostled  and  hlled  the  air 
with  shouts  and  imprecations. 

Vice  put  on  the  same  activity  that  conunerco  showed. 
The  Creole  had  never  been  a  strong  moral  force.  The 
American  came  in  as  to  gold  diggings  or  diamond  fields, 
to  i!:rab  and  run.  The  transatlantic  immiu:rant  of  those 
days  was  frequently  the  offscouring  of  Europe.  The  West 
Indian  was  a  leader  in  licentiousness,  gambUng  and  duel- 
ling. The  number  of  billiard-rooms,  gaming-houses,  and 
lottery-offices  was  immense.  In  the  old  town  they  seemed 
to  be  every  second  house.  There  was  the  French  Evan- 
gelical Church  Lottery,  the  Baton  Kouge  Church  Lottery, 
the  Natchitoches  Catholic  Church  Lottery,  and  a  host  of 
others  less  piously  inclined.  The  cafes  of  the  central  town 
were  full  of  filibusters.  In  1819,  "  General "  Long  sailed 
hence  against  Galveston.  In  1822,  a  hundred  and  fifty 
men  left  New  Orleans  in  the  sloop-of-war  Eiweka,  and 
assisted  in  the  taking  of  Porto  Cabello,  Venezuela.  The 
paving  movement  had  been  only  a  flurry  or  two,  and  even 
in  the  heart  of  the  town,  where  carriages  sometimes  sank 


A   IIUXDUED   THOUSAND   PEOPLE.  219 

to  tlicir  axles  in  mud,  highway  robbery  and  murder  lay 
always  in  wait  for  the  incautious  night  wayfarer  who  ven- 
tured out  alone.  The  police  was  a  mounted  gendarmerie. 
If  the  Legislature  conunitted  a  tenth  of  the  wickedness  it 
was  charged  M-ith,  it  was  sadly  corrupt.  The  worst  day 
of  all  the  week  was  Sunday.  The  stores  and  shops  were 
open,  but  toil  slackened  and  license  gained  headway. 
Gambling-rooms  and  ball-rooms  were  full,  weapons  were 
often  out,  the  quadroon  masques  of  the  Salle  de  Conde 
were  thronged  with  men  of  high  standing,  and  crowds  of 
barge  and  raftsmen,  as  well  as  Creoles  and  St.  Domin<'-ans 
gathered  at  those  open-air  African  dances,  carousals,  and 
debaucheries  in  the  rear  of  the  town  that  have  left  their 
monument  in  the  name  of  "  Congo "'  Scpuire. 

Yet  still  prosperity  smiled  and  connnerce  roared  alon^*- 
the  streets  of  the  town  and  her  faubourgs— Ste.  Mario  on 
her  right,  Marigny  on  her  left— with  ever-rising  volume 
and  value,  and  in  spite  of  fearful  drawbacks.  The  climate 
was  deadly  to  Americans,  and  more  deadly  to  the  squalid 
immigrant.  Social  life,  unattractive  at  best,  received  the 
Creole  and  shut  the  door.  The  main  town  was  without 
beauty,  and  the  landscape  almost  without  a  dry  foothold. 
Schools  were  scarce  and  poor,  churches  few  and  ill  at- 
tended, and  domestic  service  squalid,  inefficient,  and  cor- 
rupt. Between  1810  and  1837  there  were  lifteen  epidem- 
ics of  yellow  fever.  Small-pox  was  frequent.  In  1832, 
M'liile  yellow  fever  was  still  epidemic,  cholera  entered  and 
carried  off  one  i  erson  in  every  six;  many  of  the  dead 


220  THE   CREOLES   OF   LOUISIANA. 

were  buried  wliere  tliey  died,  and  many  were  thrown  into 
the  river.  ]\Ioreovcr,  to  get  to  the  town  or  to  leave  it  was 
a  journey  famed  for  its  dangers.  On  one  steamboat,  three 
liundred  lives  were  lost ;  on  another,  one  hundred  and 
thirty  ;  on  another,  the  same  number ;  on  another,  one 
hundred  and  twentv.  The  cost  of  runnintf  a  steamer  was 
six  times  as  great  as  on  the  northern  lakes. 

AVithout  tliese  drawbacks  what  would  New  Orleans 
have  been  'i  For,  with  them  all,  and  with  others  wliich  we 
pass  by,  her  population  between  1830  and  1840  once  more 
doubled  its  numbers.  She  was  the  fourth  citv  of  the  Unit- 
cd  States  in  the  number  of  her  people.  Cincinnati,  which 
in  the  previous  decade  had  outgrown  her,  was  surpassed 
and  distanced.  Only  Xew  York,  Philadelphia,  and  Balti- 
more were  larger.  Boston  was  uearlv  as  large ;  but  be- 
sides  these  there  was  no  other  city  in  the  Union  of  half 
her  numbers.  Faubourg  Ste.  Marie  liad  swallowed  up  the 
suburbs  above  her  until  it  comprised  ths  whole  expanse  of 
the  old  Jesuits'  plantations  to  the  line  of  Felicity  lload. 
The  old  ^larquis  Marigny  de  Mandeville,  whose  plantation 
lay  on  the  lower  edge  of  the  town  just  across  the  Espla- 
nade, had  turned  it  into  lots  and  streets,  and  the  town 
had  run  over  upon  it  and  covered  it  M'ith  small  residences, 
and  here  and  there  a  villa.  The  city  boundaries  had  been 
extended  to  take  in  both  these  faubourgs ;  and  the  three 
"  immicipalities,"  as  they  were  called,  together  numbered 
one  hundred  and  two  thousand  inhabitants. 

The  ends  of  the  harbor -front  were  losing  sight  of  each 


A   nUNDKED  TIIOrSANl)    PEOl'LE. 


ftm  f^  ±. 


other.  In  tlio  seasons  of  liigh  water  the  tall,  hroad,  frail- 
looking  steamers  that  crowded  in  together,  "  how  on,"  at 
the  hiisy  levee,  hidden  to  their  hurricane  roofs  in  cargoes 


Old   Bourse  and   St    Lnuis  Hotel.     (Afterward  tile  State  House). 

of  cotton  bales,  looked  down  upon  not  merely  a  (juiet  little 
Spanish-American  town  of  narrow  streets,  low,  heavy, 
rugged  roofs,  and  Latin  richness  and  variety  of  color  peep- 
ing out  of  a  mass  of  overshadowing  greenery.     Fort  St. 


'J'22  TJIE   CKEOLES   OF    LoriSIAXA. 

Cliailcj;,  the  last  fraction  of  the  okl  fortifications,  was 
gone,  find  tlie  loftv  chimney  of  a  United  States  mint 
smoked  in  its  place.  The  new  ]>oni"se,  later  known  as  St. 
Louis  Hotel,  and  yet  later  as  the  famed  State-house  of 
lieconstrnction  days,  just  raised  its  low,  black  dome  into 
view  above  the  intervening  piles  of  brick.  A  huge  prison 
lifted  its  frowning  walls  and  quaint  Spanish  twin  belfries 
gloomily  over  Congo  Square.  At  the  white-stuccoed  Mer- 
chants' Exchange,  just  inside  the  old  boundary  on  the  Ca- 
nal Street  side,  a  stream  of  men  poured  in  and  out,  for  there 
was  the  Post-office.  Down  in  the  lower  arm  of  the  river's 
bend  shone  the  Third  Municipality, — which  liad  been  Fau- 
bourg Marigny.  On  its  front,  behind  a  net-work  of  ship- 
ping, stood  the  Levee  Cotton  Press ;  it  had  cost  half  a 
million  dollars.  Here  on  the  south,  sweeping  far  around 
and  beyond  the  view  almost  to  the  "  Bull's  Head  Coffee- 
house," was  the  Second  Municipality,  once  Faubourg  Ste. 
Marie,  with  its  lines  and  lines*  of  warehouses,  its  Orleans 
Press,  that  must  needs  cost  a  quarter  million  more  than 
the  other,  and  many  a  lesser  one.  The  town  was  full  of 
banks  :  the  Commercial,  the  Atchafalaya,  the  Orleans,  the 
Canal,  the  City,  etc.  Banks's  Arcade  was  there,  a  glass- 
roofed  mercantile  court  in  the  midst  of  a  large  hotel  in 
Magazine  Street,  now  long  known  as  the  St.  James.  Ho- 
tels were  numerous.  In  Camp  and  St.  Charles  Streets 
stood  two  theatres,  where  the  world's  stars  deigned  to  pre- 
sent themselves,  and  the  practical  jokers  of  the  upper  gal- 
leries concocted  sham  fights  and  threw  straw  men  over 


A   HUXDIIKD   THOUSAND    PDOPLK.  i>03 

into  tl.c  pit  below,  with  cries  of  murder.  Here  and  there 
a  church— tlie  First  rresbyterian,  the  Carondelet  :Metho- 
dist-raised  an  admonitory  linger.  The  site  of  okl  Jean 
Gravier's  house  was  hidden  beliind  Toydras  Market  •  the 


;  , 


uncanny  iron  frames  of  tlie  Gas  Works  rose  beyond.  The 
reservoir  of  the  water-works  lay  in  here  to  the  left  near 
the  river,  whose  muddy  water  it  used.  Back  yonder  in 
the  street  named  for  Julia,  the  f.  w.  c.,*  a  little  bunch  of 
schooner  masts  and  pennons  showed  where  the  Canal  Bank 
liad  dug  a  "Kew  Basin  "  and  brought  the  waters  of  Lake 
Pontchartrain  up  into  this  part  of  the  city  also. 
It  was  the  period  when  the  American  idea  of  architect- 


•  "  Free  woman  of  color  "-initials  used  in  the  Louisiana  courts  and 
notarial  documents. 


224  THE   CREOLES   OF  LOUISIANA. 

lire  had  passed  from  its  untrained  innocence  to  a  sopho- 
nioric  affectation  of  Greek  forms.  Banks,  hotels,  churches, 
theatres,  mansions,  cottages,  all  were  Ionic  or  Corinthian, 
and  the  whole  American  quarter  was  a  gleaming  white. 
But  the  commercial  shadow  of  this  quarter  fell  darkly  upon 
the  First  Municipality,  the  old  town.  A  quiet  crept  into 
the  line  Toulouse.  The  fashionable  shops  on  the  Kuo 
Koyale  slipped  away  and  spread  out  in  Canal  Street.  The 
vault  of  the  St.  Louis  dome  still  echoed  the  voice  of  the 
double-tongued,  French-English  auctioneer  of  town  lots 
and  slaves ;  but  in  the  cabbage-garden  of  "  old  Mr. 
Percy,"  in  the  heart  of  Faubourg  Ste.  Marie,  a  resplen- 
dent rival,  the  palatial  St.  Charles,  lifted  its  dazzling 
cupola  high  above  all  surroundings  and  overpeered  old 
town  and  new,  river,  plain,  and  receding  forest.  Its  ro- 
tunda was  the  unofficial  guildhall  of  all  the  city's  most 
active  elements.  Here  met  the  capitalist,  the  real  estate 
operator,  the  merchant,  the  soldier,  the  tourist,  the  politi- 
cian, the  filibuster,  the  convivial  ist,  the  steamboat  captain, 
the  horse-fancier ;  and  ever  conspicuous  among  the  throng 
— which  had  a  trick  of  separating  suddenly  and  dodging 
behind  the  pillars  of  the  rotunda  at  the  sound  of  high 
words — was  a  man,  a  type,  an  index  of  great  wealth  to 
New  Orleans,  who  in  this  spot  was  never  a  stranger  and 
was  never  quite  at  home. 


0) 

c 


I- 


XX  XL 

FLUSH  TLAIES. 

'J^IIE  brow  and  cheek  of  tliis  man  wore  darkened  l)y 
ontdoor  exposure,  but  they  were  not  weatJier-beaten 
Ills  sliapely,  bronzed  liand  was  no  harder  or  rougher  than 
was  due  to  the  use  of  the  bridle-rein  and  tiie   gurustock 
Ills  eve  was  tlie  eye  of  a  steed  ;  Ids  ueck-the  same    Jlis 
Lair  was  a  little  luxuriant.     His  speech  was  positive,  hh 
manner  M-as  military,  Ins  sentiments  were  antique,  his  cloth- 
ing was  of  broadcloth,  ]r.  boots  were  neat,  and  his  Imt 
was  soft,  broad,  and  slou.i.ed  a  little  to  show  its  fineness 
Such  in  his  best  aspect  was  the  Mississippi  River  planter 
^V]m^  sugar  was  his  crop  and  Creole  French  liis  native 
tongue,  his  polish  would  sometimes  be  finer  still,  with  a 
finish  got  in  Paris,  and  his  liotel  Mould  be  the  St.  Louis. 

He  was  growing  to  be  a  great  power.  The  enormous 
agi-icultural  resources  of  Louisiana,  Mississippi,  Arkansas, 
and  Tenuessee  were  liis.  The  money-lender  gyrated 
around  liim  with  sweet  smiles  and  open  purse.  He  was 
mortgaged  to  the  eyes,  and  still  comn.anded  a  credit  that 
courted  and  importuned  hin,.  He  caused  an  immense 
increase  of  trade.     His  extravagant  wants  and  the  needs 


2^28  TJIK   (III'.OLES    OF    LonsiAXA. 

of  his  armies  of  slaves  kept  tlie  city  drained  of  its  capital 
almost  or  <|iiite  the  whole  year  roimd.  Borrower  and 
lender  vied  with  each  other  in  recklessness.  Much  the 
larger  portion  of  all  the  varied  products  of  the  West  re- 
ceived in  New  Orleans  Avas  reshipped,  not  to  sea,  hut  to 
the  plantations  of  the  interior,  often  returning  along  the 
same  route  half  the  distance  they  had  originally  come. 
]\rillions  of  capital  that  would  have  yielded  slower  but 
immenselv  better  iinal  results  in  other  channels  went  into 
the  planters'  paper,  based  on  the  value  of  slaves  and  of 
lands  whose  value  depeiuled  on  slave  labor, — a  species  of 
wealth  unexchangeable  in  the  great  world  of  commerce, 
fictitious  as  paper  money,  and  even  more  illusory.  But, 
like  the  paper  money  that  was  then  inundating  the  coun- 
try, this  system  produced  an  innnense  volume  of  business; 
and  this,  in  turn,  called  into  the  city,  to  fill  the  streets  and 
landings  and  the  thousands  of  humble  dwellings  that 
sprang  up  throughout  the  old  Faubourg  Marigny  and 
spread  out  on  the  right  flank  of  Faubourg  Ste.  Marie,  the 
Irish  and  German  emigrant,  by  tens  of  thousands. 

It  was  in  the  midst  of  these  conditions  that  mad  specu- 
lations in  Western  lands  and  the  downfall  of  the  United 
States  Bank  rolled  the  great  financial  crisis  of  1837  across 
the  continent.  Where  large  results  had  intoxicated  enter- 
prise, banks  without  number,  and  often  without  founda- 
tion, strewed  their  notes  among  the  infatuated  people. 
But  in  New  Orleans  enterprise  had  forgotten  everything 
but  the  factorage  of  the  staple  crops.     The  banks  were 


FLUSH   TIMES.  231 

not  so  many,  but  tliey  followed  the  fashion  in  havintr 
make-believe  capital  and  in  crumbling  to  ashes  at  a 
touch.  Sixty  millions  of  capital,  four  of  deposits,  twelve 
hundred  thousand  specie,  eighteen  hundred  thousand  real 
estate,  and  seventy-two  millions  receivables,  mostly  pro- 
tested,—such  was  their  record  when  they  suspended. 

"  A  whirlwind  of  ruin,"  said  one  of  the  newspapers, 
"  prostrated  the  gi-eater  portion  of  the  city."   Everybody's 
hands  were  full  of  "  shin-plasters."     There  was  no  other 
currency.     Banks  and  banking  were  execrated,  and  their 
true  office  so  ill  understood  that  a  law  was  passed  prevent- 
ing the  establishment  of  any  such  institution  in  the  State. 
A  few  old  banks  that  weathered  the  long  financial  stress 
accepted,  with  silent  modesty,  the  monopoly  thus  thrown 
into  their  liands,  and  in   1843,   having   abandoned   the 
weaker  concerns  to  shipwreck,  resumed  specie  payment. 
The  city's  foreign  connneice  had  dropped  to  thirty-four 
and  three-quarters  million  dollars,  a  loss  of  nineteen  mil- 
lions ;  but,  for  the  first  time  in  her  liistory,  she  sent  to  sea 
a  million  bales  of  cotton. 

The  crisis  had  set  only  a  momentary  check  upon  agri- 
culture. The  financiers  of  Kew  Orleans  came  out  of  it 
more  than  ever  infatuated  with  the  plantation  idea.  It 
had  become  the  ruling  principle  in  the  social  organism  of 
the  South,  the  one  tremendous  drawback  to  the  best  de- 
velopment of  country  and  city  ;  and  now  the  whole  lower 
Mississippi  Valley  threw  all  its  energies  and  all  its  fortune 
into  this  seductive  mistake. 


-'^^  Tin-:  ci:i:oLi;s  of  loiisiaxa. 

And  still   the  city  grew;  grew  as  the  Delta  saiuls  on 
which  it  stands  had  grown,  by  the  compulsory  tribute  of 
the  Mississippi.     The  great  staples  of  the  A^alley  poured 
down  ever  more  and  more.    In  184:L>,  the  value  of  these  re- 
ceipts was  .s^f),  700,000  ;  in  1.S44,  it  M-as  S(;o,000,000 ;  in 
1840,  it  was  over  S77,000,00O  ;  in  1847,  it  was  ,S90,000,000  ; 
in  1850,  it  M'as  close  to  )?0 7,000,000.    The  city  lengthened  ; 
it  l»roadened;  it  lifted  its  head  higher.     The  trowel  rano- 
everywhere  on  home-made  brick  and  imported  granite,  and 
hou.^es    rose    by    hundreds.      The    Irish    and    Germans 
thronged  down  from  the  decks  of  emigrant  ships  at  the 
rate  of  thirty  thousand  a  year.    They  even  partly  crowded 
out  slave  service.     In   1850,  there  were  5,830  slaves  less 
in  the  city  than  in  1840.    The  free  mulatto  also  gave  way. 
rnenterprising,  despised,  persecuted,  this  caste,  once  so 
scant  in  numbers,  liad  grown,  in  1840,  to  be  nearly  as  nu- 
merous as  the  whites.     The  "  abolition  "  (piestion  brought 
them  double  liatred  and  suspicion  ;  and  restrictive,  unjust, 
and  intolerant  State  legislation  reduced  their  numbers- 
it  nnist  liave  been  by  exodus— from  10,000  to  less  than 
10,000   souls.      Allowing  for  natural  increase,  eleven   or 
twelve  thousand  nuist  liave  left  the  city.     The  proportion 
of  whites  rose  from  fifty-eight  to  seventy-eight  per  cent., 
and  the  whole  i)opulation  of  Xew  Orleans  and  its  environs 
Mas  183,050. 

Another  city  had  sprung  upon  the  city's' upper  boun- 
dary. In  1833,  three  suburbs,  Lafayette,  Livaudais,  and 
Keligeuses,  the  last  occupying  an  old   plantation  of  the 


km;sh   iimks. 


.>'>>i 
^.).) 


Ursiiliiio  iiuiis,  coiubini'd   into  u  town,      Al)ont    1S4<>,  the 
wciiltliy  Anioiicjuis  lioii'iiM  to  movo  iij)  liorr   into  "large, 


Entrance  to  a  Cotton  Yard. 


coniniodious,   ono-stoiy  liousos,  full    of    M'indows    on  all 
sides,    and  surrounded    by    broad    and  t>hady    gardens." 


234  TIM-:   CKEOLES   OF   LOUISIAXA. 

Here,  but  nearer  the  river,  Germans  and  Irish — especially 
tlie  former — filed  in  continually,  and  by  1850  the  town  of 
Lafayette  contained  over  fourteen  thousand  residents, 
nearly  all  white. 

It  was  a  red-letter  year.  The  first  street  pavement  of 
large,  square  granite  blocks  was  laid.  Wharf  building  set 
in  strongly.  The  wires  of  the  electro-magnetic  telegraph 
drew  the  city  into  closer  connection  with  civilization. 
The  mind  of  the  financier  was  aroused,  and  he  turned  his 
eye  toward  railroads.  The  "  Tehuantepec  route  "  received 
its  first  decided  impulse.  Mexican  grants  were  bought ; 
surveys  were  procured  ;  much  effort  was  made— and  lost. 
The  Mexican  Government  was  too  unstable  and  too  fickle 
to  be  bargained  with.  IJut  in  1851,  meantime,  two  great 
improvements  were  actually  set  on  foot;  to  wit,  the  two 
railways  that  eventually  united  the  city  with  the  gi-eat 
central  system  of  the  Union  in  the  Mississippi-Ohio  Valley, 
and  with  the  vast  Southwest,  Mexico,  and  California. 
These  two  works  moved  slowly,  but  by  1855  and  1857  the 
railway  trains  were  skimming  out  across  the  bowery  prai- 
ries tremhlantes  eighty  miles  westward  tow^ard  Texas,  and 
the  same  distance  northward  toward  the  centre  of  the 
continent.  In  1852,  Lafayette  and  the  municipalities  were 
consolidated  into  one  city  government.  Sixteen  years  of 
subdivision  under  r  parate  municipal  councils,  and  similar 
expensive  and  obstructive  nonsense,  had  taught  Creole, 
American,  and  immigrant  the  value  of  unity  and  of  the 
American    principles  of  growth  better  than  unity  could 


FLUSH   TIMES.  23,T 

have  done  it.  Algiers,  a  suburb  of  machine  shops  and 
nautical  repair  yards,  began  to  grow  conspicuous  on  tlio 
farther  side  of  tlie  river. 

Tlie  consolidation  was  a  great  step.  Tiio  American 
quarter  became  the  centre  and  core  of  the  whole  city.  Its 
new  and  excessively  classic  marble  municipality  hall  be- 
came the  city  hall.  Its  public  grounds  became  the  chosen 
rendezvous  of  all  popular  assemblies.  All  the  great  trades 
sought  domicile  in  its  streets ;  and  the  St.  Charles,  at 
whose  memorable  burning,  in  1850,  the  people  wept,  being 
restored  in  1852-53,  made  final  eclipse  of  the  old  St! 
Louis. 

A  small  steel-engraved  picture  of  Now  Orleans,  made 
just  before  this  period,  is  obviously  the  inspiration  of  the 
commercial  and  self-important  American.     The  ancient 
plaza,  the  cathedral,  the  old  hall  of  the  cabildo,  the  cala- 
boza,  the  old  Spanish  barracks,  the  emptied  convent  of 
the  Ursulines,  the  antiquated  and  decayed  Rue  Toulouse, 
the  still  quietly  busy  Chartres  and  Old  Levee  Streets— all 
that  was  time-honored  and  venerable,  are  pushed  out  of 
view,  and  the  lately  humble  Faubourg  Ste.  Marie  fills  the 
picture  almost  from  side  to  side.     Long  ranks  of  huge, 
lofty-chimneyed  Mississippi  steamers  smoke  at  the  levee  ; 
and  high  above  the  deep  and  solid  phalanxes  of  brick  and 
stone  rise  the   majestic  dome  of  the  first   St.  Charles 
and  the  stately  tower  of  St.  Pati-ick's  Church,  queen  and 
bishop  of  the  board. 

But  the  ancient  landmarks  trembled  to  a  worse  fate  than 


21)0  'llli;    (  KKolJiS    or    I.nriSIAXA. 

Iji'iiii;-  loft  out  of  ;i  picture,  liciiovatioii  cuuiO  in.  In 
Js.^o,  the  t'uthcMlral  ^va.s  t(tiii  down  to  its  i'oundations,  and 
l)eg'au  to  rise  a_<i:ain  witli  all  of  its  Spaiusli  picturcs^ueness 
lost  and  littki  <»i'  notliini;'  uaiiicd  in  buautv.  On  its  i-i^'ht 
and  left  al)>urd  j-'rcncli  roofs  Mcro  clapped  n[ton  the  ca- 
1)ildo  and  the  coni't-hous(!.  OM  Don  Andreas's  dauii'liter. 
the  IJaroness  IVmtalha,  replacecl  the  <juaint  tile-roofed 
.store  l)nil(linirs  that  her  father  had  Ituilt  on  either  side  of 
the  s(piare  ^ith  lar^e,  new  i-o\vs  of  red  brick.  The  city 
laid  out  th(!  Place  d'Arnies,  onct;  her  ,i;i'assy  ]>lay-i;T(»und, 
in  hlindiiii;'  M'hlte-shell  walks,  tiimnied  shruhhery,  and 
dusty  ilower-beds,  and  later,  in  I  Nr>r>,  placed  in  its  centre 
the  bron/.e  e(]uestrian  figure  «>f  the  deliverer  of  Xew 
Orleans,  and  called  the  classics  spot  dackson  Square.  Yet, 
even  so,  it  remains  to  the  presinit  the  last  lurking-placc  of 
the  i-onumce  of  primitive;  ?Sew  Oi'leans. 

It  was  Jiot  a  time  to  look  for  verv  good  taste.  All 
thouiihts  were  led  awav  hv  the  golden  charms  of  com- 
mercc.  In  IS.-)!,  the  value  of  receipts  from  the  interior 
M-as  nearly  Sl(»T,»>Oo,(i( Ml.  The  mint  coined  SlO,000,UOU, 
mostly  the  pi'oduct  of  Califorida's  new-found  treasure- 
fields.  The  vear  isr*.')  brouiiht  still  ureater  increase.  Of 
cotton  alone,  there  came  sixtv-eiiiht  and  a  (luarter  million 
dollars'  worth.  The  sugar  crop  was  tens  of  thousands  of 
liogsheads  larger  than  ever  before.  ( )v(.'r  a  tentli  of  all 
the  arrivals  from  sea  were  of  steamships.  There  was 
another  intlation.  Leaving  out  the  immense  unascertained 
amounts  of  shipments  i/do  the  interior,  the  city's  business, 


The  Old  Bank  in  Toulouse  Street. 


FLUSH  TIMES.  2;j9 

in  1850,  rose  to  two  liundrcd  and  soventj-one  and  a  qnar- 
ter  millions.  In  1857  it  was  three  hundred  and  two  mil- 
lions. In  this  year  came  a  crash,  which  the  whole  country 
felt.  Xew  Orleans  felt  it  rather  less  than  other  cities,  and 
quickly  recovered. 

We  pause  at  1800.  In  that  year  New  Orleans  rose  to 
a  prouder  connnercial  exaltation  than  she  had  ever  before 
enjoyed,  and  at  its  close  began  that  sudden  and  swift  de- 
scent which  is  not  the  least  pathetic  episode  of  our  unfor- 
tunate civil  war.  In  that  year,  the  city  tha.  a  hundred 
and  forty  years  before  had  consisted  of  a  hundred  bark 
and  palmetto-thatched  huts  in  a  noisome  swamp  counted, 
as  the  fraction  of  its  commerce  comprised  in  its  exports, 
imports,  and  domestic  receipts,  the  value  of  three  hundred 
and  twenty-four  million  dollars. 


XXXII. 

WHY  NOT  BIGGER   THAN  LONDON. 

rrillE  great  Creole  city's  geograpliieal  position  has  al- 
ways dazzled  every  eye  except  the  cold,  coy  scrutiny 
of  capital.  "  The  position  of  Xew  Orleans,"  said  Presi- 
dent Jefferson  in  1804,  "certainly  destines  it  to  be  the 
greatest  city  the  world  has  ever  seen."  lie  excepted 
neither  Home  nor  Babylon.  But  man's  most  positive  pre- 
dictions are  based  upon  contingencies ;  one  unforeseen 
victory  over  nature  bowls  them  down ;  tiie  seeming  cer- 
tainties of  to-morrow  are  changed  to  the  opposite  certain- 
ties of  to-day ;  deserts  become  gardens,  gardens  cities,  and 
older  cities  the  haunts  of  bats  and  foxes. 

When  the  early  Kentuckian  and  Ohioan  accepted  na- 
ture's highway  to  market,  and  proposed  the  conquest  of 
Kew  Orleans  in  order  to  lay  that  highway  open,  they  hon- 
estly believed  there  was  no  other  possible  outlet  to  the 
commercial  world.  When  steam  navigation  came,  they 
hailed  it  with  joy  and  without  question.  To  them  it 
seemed  an  ultimate  result.  To  the  real-estate  hoarding 
Creole,  to  the  American  merchant  who  was  crowding  and 
chafing  him,  to  every  superticial  eye  at  least,  it  seemed  a 


WHY  NOT  BIGGER  THAN  LONDON.  241 

pledge  of  unlimited  commercial  empire  bestowed  by  tl.e 
laws  of  gravitation.  Few  saw  in  it  tl.e  stepping-stone 
from  the  old  system  of  commerce  by  natnral  highways  to 
a  new  system  by  direct  and  artificial  lines. 

It  is  hard  to  understand,  looking  back  fron,  the  present, 
how  so  extravagant  a  mistake  could  have  been  n.ade  by 
w,se  minds.    Fron,  the  «rst_or  perhaps,  we  shonid  J, 
rom  the  peace  of  lS15-the  developn.ent  of  the  West 
declmed  to  wait  on  Kew  Orleans,  or  even  on  steam.     I„ 
18.0  the  new  principle  of   coum.ercial  transportation- 
that  despises  alike  the  aid  and  the  interference  of  nature 
-opened,  at  Buffalo,  the  western  end  of  the  Erie  (imal 
the  gate-way  of  a  new  freight  route  to  northern  AthuJ 
fc  t.de-waters,   n.any  hundreds  of  leagues   more  direct 
than  the  long  journey  down  the  Mississippi  to  Iv'ew  Or 
leans  and  around  the  dangerous  capes  of  Florida.    In  the 
same  year  another  canal   was  begun,  and  in  1S32  it  con- 
^ected   the  Ohio  with  Lake  Erie;  so  that,  in  1835,  the 
btatc   of   Ohio  alone  sent  through  Buffalo  to  Atlantic 
ports  86,000  barrels  of  ilour,  98,000  bushels  of  wheat  and 
2,500,000  staves. 

Another  ontlet  was  found,  better  than  all  transits- 
manufactures.  Steam,  driving  all  manner  of  machinery 
built  towns  and  cities.  Cincinnati  had,  in  1820,  32  000 
inhabitants;  in  1S30,  52,000.  Pittsburg  became,  "in  the 
extent  of  ,ts  manufactures,  the  only  rival  of  Cincinnati  in 
the  West."  St.  Louis,  still  i„  embryo,  rose  from  10,000  to 
U.OOO.     Bijffalo,  a  town  of  2,100,  quadrupled  its  nun.bcrs 


242  Tin:  ciiiooLKs  of  lovisiana. 

Meanwhile,  far  down  in  Xew  Orleans  tin;  Creole,  p^rimly, 
and  the  American,  more  boastfully,  rejoiced  in  a  blaze  of 
prospei'ity  that  blinded  both.  How  should  they,  in  a  rain 
of  wealth,  take  note  that,  to  keep  pace  with  the  wonder- 
ful development  in  the  great  valley  above,  their  increase 
should  have  been  thn^e  times  as  great  as  it  was,  and  that 
the  sun  of  illimitable  empire,  which  had  promised  to 
shine  brightest  upon  them,  was  shedding  brighter  prom- 
ises and  kinder  rays  eastward,  and  even  northward,  aorm 
nature's  hiiirhwavs  and  barriers.  Kven  steam  navigation 
l)egan,  on  the  great  lakes,  to  demonstrate  that  the  golden 
tolls  of  the  Mississippi  were  not  all  to  be  collected  at  one 
or  even  two  gates. 

How  might  this  have  been  stopped  ?  By  no  means. 
The  moment  East  and  "West  saw  that  straiu'liter  courses 
toward  connnercial  Europe  could  be  taken  than  wild 
nature  offered,  the  direct  became  the  natural  route,  and 
the  circuitous  the  unnatural.  East-and-west  trade  lines, 
meant,  sooner  or  later,  the  connnercial  subordination  of 
>^'ew  Orleans,  until  such  time  as  the  growth  of  countries 
behind  her  in  the  Southwest  should  bring  her  also  upon 
an  east-and-west  line.  Meantime  the  new  system  could 
be  delayed  by  improving  the  old,  many  of  whose  draw- 
backs were  removable.  That  which  could  not  be  stopped 
could  yet  be  postponed. 

-But  there  was  one  drawback  that  riveted  all  the  rest. 
Through  slave-holding,  and  the  easy  fortmie-o-etting  it 
afforded,  an  intellectual  indolence  spread  everywhere,  and 


WHY  XOT   BIGGER  THAN   LOXDOX.  245 

the  merchant  of  Faubourg  Ste.  Mario,  American-often 
Aew  Englander~as  he  M-as,  sank  under  tlie  seductions 
of  a  livehliood  so  simple,  so  purely  executive,  and  so  rich 
m  perquisites,  as  the  marketing  of  raw  crops.     From  this 
mental   inertia  sprang  an  invincible   provincialism;   the 
Creole,  whose  society  he  was  always  courting,  intensified 
It.     lierier  civilizations  were  too  far  away  to  disturb  it 
A  "pKuliar  institution"  doubled  that  remoteness,  and  an 
enervating,  luxurious  climate  folded  it  again  upon  itself 
It  colored  his  financial  convictions  and  all  liis  conduct  of 
pnbhc  affairs,     lie  confronted  obstacles  with  serene  apa- 
thy  ;  boasted  of  his  city's  natural  advantages,  forgetting 
that  It  was  man,  not  nature,  that  he  had  to  contend  with" 
surrendered  ground  which  he  might  have  held  for  gene- 
rations; and  smilingly  ignored  the  fact  that,  with  all  her 
increase  of  wealth  and  population,  his  town  was  slipping. 
back  along  the  comparative  scale  of    American   cities" 
"  Was  she  not  the  greatest  in  exports  after  Xew  York  ?  " 
The   same   influence  that    made    the    Creole    always 
and  only  a  sugar,  tobacco,  or  cotton  factor,  waived  away 
the  classes  which  might  have   brought  in  manufactures 
with  them.     Its  shadow  fell  as  a  blight  upon  intelligent 
trained  labor.  Immigrants  from  the  British  Isles  and  froni 
Europe  poured  in  ;  but  those  adepts  in  the  mechanical  and 
productive  arts  that  so  rapidly  augment  the  fortunes  of  a 
commonwealth  staid  away ;  there  was  nothing  in  surround- 
ing nature  or  society  to  evolve  the  operative  from  the  hod- 
carrier  and  drayman,  and  the  prospecting  manufacturer  and 


24(J  TIIK    (IIKOLES   OF    J.OUISIAXA. 

his  capital  tnnied  aside  to  newer  towns  where  labor  was 
uncoiiteniiied,  and  skill  and  technical  knowledge  sprang 
forward  at  the  call  of  enlightened  entcrj)rise. 

Men  ne\'er  ijruessed  the  wliole  nionev  value  of  time  until 
tlie  great  inventions  for  the  facilitation  of  connuerce  began 
to  appear.  "  Adopt  us,'' these  seemed  to  say  as  they  came 
forward  in  protession,  "or  you  cannot  l)econie  or  even  re- 
main great."  Hut,  even  so,  only  tliose  cities  lying  some- 
where on  right  lines  between  tlie  great  centres  of  supply 
and  demand  could  seize  and  iiold  them.  It  M'as  the  fate, 
not  the  fault,  of  Xew  Orleans  not  to  be  one  such.  Ht. 
Louis,  Louisville,  Cincinnati,  Pittsburg,  l)OSton,  New 
York,  Philadelphia,  Ijaltimore,  were  more  fortunate ; 
while  Cleveland,  'Buffalo,  Chicago,  were  l)orn  of  these  new 
conditions.  The  locomotive  engine  smote  the  connnercial 
domain  of  New  Orleans  in  half,  and  divided  the  best  part 
of  her  trade  beyond  tlie  mouth  of  the  Ohio  among  her 
rivals.  In  that  decade  of  development — 1830-40 — when 
the  plantation  idea  was  enriching  her  with  one  hand  and 
robbing  her  of  double  with  the  other,  the  West  was  filling 
with  town  life,  and  railroads  and  canals  were  starting 
eagerly  eastward  and  westward,  bearing  innnense  burdens 
of  freight  and  travel,  and  changing  th^  scale  of  miles  to 
that  of  minutes.  Boston  and  New  York  had  pre-empted 
the  future  with  their  daring  outlays,  and  clasped  hands 
tighter  with  the  States  along  the  Ohio  by  lines  of  direct 
transit.  Pennsylvania  joined  Philadelphia  with  the  same 
iviver,  and  spent  more  money  in  railroads  and  canals  than 


Exchange  Alloy.     (O'd  Passage  de  'a  Bourse.)     Looking  toward  the  Amer  can  Quarter. 


WJIV   :S0T  lUGGKU  TIIAX   LOXDOX.  i>40 

any  other  State  i.i  the  Union.  I^altiniorc  readied  out  licr 
C'liesapeake  ct  Oliio  canal  and  railway.  OJiio  and  Indi- 
ana spent  millions.  IJut  the  census  of  1840  proclaimed 
^c^v  Orleans  the  fourth  city  of  the  Union,  and  her  mer- 
chants openly  professed  the  belief  that  they  ^vere  to  be- 
come the  metropolis  of  America  Avithout  exertion. 

Kapid  transit  only  annised  them,  while  raw  crops  and 
milled  breadstuffs  still  sought  the  cheapest  rates  of  fi-eight. 
They  looked  at  the  tabulated  figures;  they  were  still  ship- 
ping  their  share  of  the  A^alley's  vastly  increased  field  pro- 
ducts.  It  was  not  true,  they  said,  with  sudden  resentment, 
that  they  '^  sold  the  skin  for  a  groat  and  bought  the  tail 
for  a  shilling."     But  they  did  not  look  far  enough.     Im- 
proved transportation,  denser  settlement,  labor-saving  ma- 
chinery, had  immensely  increased  the  West's  producing 
power.     IS^ew  Orleans  should  have  received  and  exported 
an  even  greater  proportion— not  merely  quantity— of  those 
products  of  the  field.     Partly  not  heeding,  and  partly  un- 
able to  help  it,  she  abandoned  this  magnificent  surplus  to 
the  growing  cities  of  the  West  and  East.     Still  more  did 
she  fail  to  notice  that  the  manufactures  of  the  Mississippi 
and  Ohio  States  had  risen  from  fifty  to  one  hundred  and 
sixty-four  millions.    She  began  to  observe  these  facts  oidy 
as  another  decade  was  closing  M-ith  1850,  when  her  small 
import  trade  had  shrunken  to  less  than  a  third  that  of 
Boston  and  a  tenth  that  of  Xew  York. 

Her  people  then  began  to  call  out  in  alarm.     :N^ow  ad- 
mitting, now  denying,  they  marked,  with  a  loser's  impa- 


250 


THE   CKKOLKS    OF   LOIISIAXA. 


tience,  tlio  progress  ot"  other  cities  at  what  seemed  to  l)o 
their  expense.  Boston  had  surpassed  tliem  in  numbers  ; 
Brooklyn   was   fonr-tifths   tlieir   size;    St.    Louis,  seven- 


i4 


S 


,w 


'^ilm^^ 


Old  Passage  de  la  Bourse.     Looking  toward  the  French  Quarter. 


eighths ;  Cincinnati  was  but  a  twenty-fifth  behind ;  Louis- 
ville, Chicago,  Buffalo,  Pittsburg,  were  coming  on  with 
populations  of  from  forty  to  fifty  thousand.     Where  were 


tlio  day.-,  when  Xcnv  Orleans  was  the  connnercial  empress 
of  her  great  valley  and  heir-ap])arent  t,>  the  soverei-nty 
of  the  world's  trade?  New  York,  Thiladelphia,  15altinl<>re, 
Liverpool-eonld  they  ever  be  overtaken  i  Anieriran' 
merchant  and  Creole  property-holder  eried  to  each  other 
to  throw  off  their  letliargy  and  place  Xew  Orleans  where 
Xature  liad  destined  her  to  sit. 

The  air  was  full  of  diagnoses:  There  had  been  too  ex- 
clusive an  attention  to  the  moving  of  crops:   there  had 
been  too  much  false  pride  against  mercantile  pursuits  ; 
sanitation  had  been  neglected  ;  there  liad  not  been  even' 
the  pretense  of  a  quarantine  since  Lsl>5  ;  pu^  Mc  improve- 
ments had  been  few  and  trivial;    a  social   exclusiveness 
made  tlie  town  mdiomelike  and  repellant  to  the  higher 
order  of  inunigrant ;  the  port  charges  were  suicidal.     One 
pen  even  brought  out  the  nndei-lying  fact  of  slave  labor, 
and    contrasted   its    voiceless   acceptation   of  antiquated 
methods  of  work  with  the  reflecting,  outspeaking,  actin- 
liberty  of  the  Korthern  workman  which  filled  the  Xorth- 
ern  communities  with   practical   thinkers.      The   absurd 
numicipality  system  of  city  government,  which  split  the 
city  into  four  towns,  was  rightly  blamed  for  much  non- 
progression. 

Much,  too,  was  the  moi-e  unjust  blame  laid  at  the  door 
of  financiers  and  capitalists.  Railways  >  But  who  could 
swing  a  railway  from  Kew  Orleans,  in  any  direction,  that  it 
would  not  be  better  to  stretch  from  some  point  near  the  cen- 
tre of  Western  supply  to  some  other  centre  in  the  manu- 


I" 


'2k)2  TJIK    CKKOLKS    OF    J.oriSIAN.V. 

factui'in<j;  and  ('oiisiiinlng  Kast  {  Slave  labor  liad  handed 
over  the  rich  prize  of  Kiiropeau  and  Xcnv  England  innni- 
gration  to  the  mnnonopolized  West,  and  the  purely  for- 
tune-hunting canal-hoat  and  locomotive  put?hed  aside  the 
slave  and  his  owner  and  followed  the  free  immigrant. 
And,  in  truth,  it  was  years  later,  when  the  outstretched 
iron  arms  of  Northern  enterprise  began  to  grasp  the  pro- 
ducts of  the  Southwest  itself,  that  2s'ew  Orleans  capitalists, 
M'ith  more  misi-iving  than  enthusiasm,  thrust  out  their  first 
railway  Avorthy  of  the  name  through  the  great  plantation 
State  of  Mississippi. 

Some  lamented  a  lack  of  banking  capital.  J>ut  bankers 
knew  that  Xew  York's  was  comparatively  smaller.  Some 
cried  against  summer  absenteeism  ;  but  absenteeism  was 
equally  bad  in  the  cities  that  liad  thriven  most.  Some 
pointed  to  the  large  proportion  of  foreigners ;  but  the  first 
census  that  gave  this  proportion  showed  it  but  forty-fom* 
and  a  half  per  cent,  of  the  whites  in  New  Orleans,  against 
forty-two  iu  Cincinnati,  forty-eight  in  !New  York,  and 
fifty-two  in  St.  Louis.  The  truth  lay  deeper  hid.  In 
those  cities  American  thought  prevailed,  and  the  incoming 
foreigner  accepted  it.  In  Xew  Orleans  American  thought 
was  foreign,  unwelcome,  disparaged  by  the  unaspiring, 
satirical  Creole,  and  often  apologized  for  by  the  American, 
who  found  himself  a  minority  in  a  combination  of  social 
forces  oftener  in  sympathy  with  European  ideas  than  with 
the  moral  energies  and  the  enthusiastic  and  venturesome 
enterprise  of  the  New  World.      Moreover,  twenty-eight 


WHY    NOT    IJKWiKIl   THAN'    L«)M)0\. 


2r)3 


thousand  slaves  and   free  blacks  luunpered  the  spirit  <»f 
projjjress  by  sheer  dead  weight. 

Was  it  true  that  the  import  trade  needed  only  to  be  cul- 


Behind  the  Old  French  Market 


tivated  ?  Who  should  support  it  beside  the  planter  ?  And 
the  planter,  all  powerful  as  he  was,  was  numerically  a 
small  minority,  and  his  favorite  investments  Nvere  land  and 
neo;roes.      The  wants  of  his  slaves  were  only  the  most 


254  TJIE  CREOLES  OF   LOUISIANA. 

primitive,  and  their  stupid  and  slovenly  eye-service  made 
the  introduction  of  labor-saving  machinery  a  farce.  AVho 
or  what  should  make  an  import  trade?  Not  the  Southern 
valley.  xS  ot  the  AVest,  either ;  for  her  imports,  she  must 
have  straight  lines  and  prompt  deliveries. 

Could  manufactures  be  developed  ?  Kot  easily,  at  least. 
The  same  fatal  shadow  fell  upon  them.  The  unintelligent, 
uneconomical  black  slave  was  unavailable  for  its  service ; 
and  to  graft  upon  the  slave-burdened  South  the  high- 
spirited  operatives  of  other  countries  was  impossible. 

"What  did  all  this  sum  up  ?  Stripped  of  disguises,  it 
stood  a  triumph  of  machinery  over  slavery  that  could  not 
be  retrieved,  save  possibly  tlu'ough  a  social  revolution  so 
great  and  apparently  so  ruinous  that  the  mention  of  it 
kindled  a  white  heat  of  public  exasperation. 

All  this  was  emphasized  by  the  Creole.  He  retained 
much  power  still,  [is  well  by  his  natural  force  as  by  his 
ownership  of  real  estate  and  his  easy  coalition  with  for- 
eijrners  of  like  ideas.  He  cared  little  to  understand.  It 
was  his  pride  not  to  be  understood.  He  divided  and  para- 
lyzed public  sentiment  when  he  could  no  longer  rule  it, 
and  often  met  the  most  imperative  calls  for  innovation 
with  the  most  unbending  conservatism.  For  every  move- 
ment was  chanore,  and  everv  chansre  carried  him  nearer 
and  nearer  toward  the  current  of  American  ideas  and  to 
absorption  into  their  flood,  which  bore  too  much  the  sem- 
blance of  annihilation.  Hold  back  as  he  might,  the  trans- 
formation was  appallingly  swift.     And  now  a  new  influ- 


1VIIV  NOT  lilGCSKU  THAN  LOXDOX.  250 

once  l,ad  sot  i„,  whicl.  above  all  others  was  destined  to 
promote,  ever  >„ore  and  ,nore,  the  n.nty  of  all  the  diverse 
elements  of  Xew  Orleans  society,  and  their  e-mipnient  for 
the  task  of  placing  their  to«n  in  a  leading  rank  a.nong  the 
greatest  cities  of  the  world. 


xxxin. 

THE  SCHOOL-MASTER. 

n^IIE  year  18J-1  dates  the  rise  in  New  Orleans  of  tlie 
modern  tyhteni  of  free  public  schools.  It  really  be- 
gan in  the  G'erman- American  suburb,  Lafayette ;  but  the 
next  year  a  single  school  was  opened  in  the  Second  Mu- 
nicipality "  with  some  dozen  scholars  of  both  sexes." 

All  the  way  b  tck  to  the  Cession,  efforts,  more  or  less 
feeble,  had  been  made  for  public  education ;  but  all  of 
them  lacked  that  idea  of  popular  and  universal  benefit 
which  has  made  the  American  public  school  a  welcome 
boon   throughout  America,  not  excepting  Louisiaui..     In 
180J:,  an  act  had  passed  "  to  establish  a  university  in  the 
territory  of  Orleans."    The  university  was  to  comprise  the 
"college  of  Xew  Orleans."   But  seven  years  later  nothing 
had  been  done.     In  1812,  however,  there  rose  on  the  old 
Bayou  road,  a  hundred  yards  or  so  beyond  the  former  line 
of  the  town's  rear  rampai-ts,  at  the  corner  of  St.  Claude 
Street,  such  a  modest  Orleans  college  as  $15,000  Ai^ould 
build  and  equip.      But  it  was  not  free,  except  to  fifty 
charity  scholars.     The  idea  was  still  that  of  condescending 
benevolence,  not  of  a  i)aying  investment  by  society  for  its 


THE  SCIIOOL-MASTEK.  257 

own  protection  and  elevation.  Ten  years  later  this  was 
the  onlj  school  in  the  city  of  a  public  character.  In  1820, 
there  were  three  small  schools  where  "all  the  branches  of 
a  polite  education  "  were  taught.  Two  of  these  were  in 
the  old  Ursnline  convent.  A  fourth  finds  mention  in  1838, 
but  the  college  seems  to  have  disappeared. 

Still  the  mass  of  educable  youth,-the  children  who 
played  "  oats,  peas,  beans,"  with  French  and  German  and 
Irish  accents,  about  the  countless  sidewalk  doorsteps  of  a 
city  of  one  and  two-story  cottages  (it  was  almost   such) ; 
the  girls  who  carried  their  little  brothers  and  sisters  on 
one  elbow  and  hip  and  stared  in  at  weddings  and  funerals; 
the  boys  whose  Idte-flying  and  games  were  full  of  tefnis 
and  outcries  in  mongrel  French,  and  who  abandoned  every- 
thing at  the  wild  clangor  of  bells  and  ran  to  fires  M'here 
the  volunteer  firemen  dropped  the  hose  and  wounded  and 
killed  each  other  in  pitched  battles ;  the  ill-kept  lads  who 
risked  their  lives  daily  five  months  of  the  year  swimming 
in  the  yellow  whirlpools  of  the  Mississippi  among  the 
wharves  and  flat-boats,  who,  naked  and  dripping,  dodged 
the  dignified  police  that  stalked  them  among  the  cotton 
bales,  who  robbed  mocking-birds'  nests  and  orange  and  fig- 
trees,  and  trapped  nonpareils  and  cardinals,  orchard-orioles 
and  indigo-birds  in  the  gardens  of  Lafayette  and  the  sub- 
urban fields,— these  had  not  been  reached,  had  not  been 
sought   by  the  educator.     The  public  recognition  of  a 
common  vital  interest  in  a  connnon  elevation  was  totally 


lacking. 


17 


258  THE   CREOLES   OF   LOUISIANA. 

At  length  this  feeling  was  aroused.  Men  of  public 
spirit  spoke  and  acted  ;  and  such  pioneers  as  Peters,  Burke, 
Touro,  Martin,  De  Bow,  and  the  Creoles  Dimitry,  Forstall, 
Gayarre,  and  others  are  gratefully  remembered  by  a  later 
generation  for  their  labors  in  the  cause  of  education.  In 
the  beginning  of  1842  there  were  in  the  American  quarter 
300  children  in  private  schools  and  2,000  in  none.  At  its 
close,  the  public  schools  of  this  quarter  and  Lafayette  had 
over  1,000  pupils.  In  the  next  year,  there  were  over 
1,300  ;  in  1844,  there  were  1,800.  In  1845,  the  University 
of  Louisiana  was  really  established.  The  medical  depart- 
ment had  already  an  existence ;  this  branch  and  that  of 
law  were  in  full  operation  in  1847,  and  Creole  and  Ameri- 
can sat  side  by  side  before  their  lecturers. 

Meanwhile  the  impulse  for  popular  enlightenment  took 
another  good  direction.  In  1842,  Mr.  B.  F.  French  threw 
open  a  library  to  the  public,  which  in  four  years  numbered 
7,500  volumes.  The  State  Library  was  formed,  with  3,000 
volumes,  for  the  use,  mainly,  of  the  Legislature.  The  City 
Library,  also  3,000  volumes,  was  formed.  In  1848  it  num- 
bered 7,500  volumes  ;  but  it  was  intended  principally  for 
the  schools,  and  was  not  entirely  free.  An  association 
threw  open  a  collection  of  2,000  volumes.  An  historical 
society  was  revived.  In  1846  and  1847  public  lectures 
were  given  and  heartily  supported ;  but,  in  1848,  a  third 
series  was  cut  short  by  a  terrible  epidemic  of  cholera. 
About  the  same  time,  the  "  Fisk  *'  Library  of  G,000  vol- 
umes, with  "  a  building  for  their  reception,"  was  offered 


THE  SCHOOL-MASTER.  259 

to  the  citj.  But  enthusiasm  had  declined.  The  gift  was 
neglected,  and  as  late  as  1854,  the  city  was  still  wkhout  a 
single  entirely  free  library. 

In  1850  there  was  but  one  school,  Sunday-school,  or 
public  library  in  Louisiana  to  each  73,960  persons,  or  100 
volumes  to  each  2,310  persons.  In  Rhode  Island,  there 
were  eleven  and  a  half  times  as  many  books  to  each  per- 
son. In  Massachusetts,  there  were  100  volumes  to  every 
188  persons.  In  the  pioneer  State  of  Michigan,  without 
any  large  city,  there  was  a  volume  to  every  fourth  person. 
True,  in  Louisiana  there  were  100  volumes  to  every  1,21S 
free  persons,  but  this  only  throws  us  back  upon  the  fact 
that  245,000  persons  were  totally  without  books  and  were 
forbidden  by  law  to  read. 

It  is  pleasanter  to  know  that  the  city's  public  schools 
grew  rapidly  in  numbers  and  efficiency,  and  that,  even 
when  her  library  facilities  were  so  meagre,  the  proportion 
of  youth  in  these  schools  was  larger  than  in  Baltimore  or 
Cincinnati,  only  slightly  inferior  to  St.  Louis  and  Xew  York, 
and  decidedly  surpassed  only  in  Philadelphia  and  Boston.' 
In  the  old  French  quarter,  the  approach  of  school-hour  saw 
thousands  of  Creole  children,  satchel  in   hand,  on  their 
way  to  some  old  live-oak-shaded  colonial  villa,  or  to  some 
old  theatre  once  the  scene  of  nightly  gambling  and  swo.xl- 
cane  fights,  or  to  some  ancient  ball-room  where  the  no^v 
faded  quadroons  had  once  shone  in  splendor  and  waltzec 
with  the  mercantile  and  official  dignitaries  of  city  and 
State,  or  to  some  brigiit,  new  school  building,  all  windows 


260  THE  CREOLES   OF  LOUISIANA. 

and  verandas.  Thither  they  went  for  an  English  educa- 
tion. It  was  not  first  choice,  but  it  was  free,  and— the 
father  and  niotlier  admitted,  with  an  amiable  shrug— it 
was  also  best. 

The  old,  fierce  enmity  against  the  English  tongue  and 
American  manners  began  to  lose  its  practical  weight  and 
to  be  largely  a  matter  of  fireside  sentiment.  The  rich 
Creole,  both  of  plantation  and  town,  still  drew  his  inspira- 
tions from  French,  tradition, — not  from  books,— and  sought 
both  culture  and  pastime  in  Paris.  His  polish  heightened ; 
his  language  improved ;  he  dropped  the  West  Indian  soft- 
ness that  had  crept  into  his  pronunciation,  and  the  African- 
isms of  his  black  nurse.  His  children  still  babbled  tliem, 
but  they  were  expected  to  cast  them  off  about  the  time  of 
their  first  communion.  However,  the  suburban  lands  were 
sold,  old  town  and  down-town  property  was  sinking  in 
value,  the  trade  with  Latin  countries  languished,  and  the 
rich  Creole  was  only  one  here  and  there  among  throngs  of 
humbler  brethren  who  were  learning  the  hard  lessons  of 
pinched  living.  To  these  an  Endish -American  training 
was  too  valuable  to  be  refused.  They  took  kindly  to  the 
American's  connting-room  desk.  They  even  began  to 
emigrate  across  Canal  Street. 


XXXIV. 

LATER  DAYS. 

"^OT  schools  only,  but  cliurclies,  multiplied  rapidly. 
There  was  a  great  improvcinent  in  public  order. 
Affrays  were  still  coinmon  ;  the  Know-:Xothing  movement 
came  on,  and  a  few  "  thugs  "  terrorized  the  city  with  cam- 
paign broils,  beating,  stabbing,  and  shooting.     Base  politi- 
cal leaders  and  spoilsmen  utilized  these  disorders,  and  they 
reached  an  unexpected  climax  and  end  one  morninf>-  con- 
fronted  by  a  vigilance  committee,  which  had,  under  cover 
of  night,  seized  the  town  arsenal  behind  the  old  Cabildo 
and  barricaded  the  approaches  to  the  Place  d'Armes  with 
uptorn  paving-stones.     But  riots  were  no  longer  a  feature 
of  the  city.     It  was  no  longer  required  that  all  tlie  night- 
watch  within  a  mile's  circuit  sliould  rally  at  the  sound  of 
a  rattle.    Fire-engines  were  no  longer  needed  to  wet  down 
huge  mobs  that  threatened  to  demolish  the  Carondelet 
Street  brokers'  shops  or  the  Cuban  cigar  stores.    Drunken 
bargemen  had  ceased  to  swarm  by  many  liundreds  against 
the  peace  and  dignity  of  the  State,  and  the  publicity  and 
respectability  of  many  other  vicious  practices  disappeared. 
Conmiunication  with  the  outside  world  was  made  inuch 


262  THE  CKEOLES   OF  LOUISIANA. 

easier,  prompter,  and  more  frequent  by  the  growth  of 
raih'oads.  Both  the  average  Creole  and  the  average 
American  became  more  refined.  The  two  types  lost 
some  of  their  points  of  difference.  The  American  ceased 
to  crave  entrance  into  Creole  society,  having  now  separate 
circles  of  his  own  ;  and  when  they  mingled  it  was  on  more 
equal  terms,  and  the  Creole  was  sometimes  the  proselyte. 
They  were  one  on  the  great  (piestion  that  had  made  the 
American  southerner  the  exasperated  champion  of  ideas 
contrary  to  the  ground  principles  of  iVmerican  social  order. 
The  Kew  Orleans  American  was  apt,  moreover,  by  this  time 
to  be  Xevv-Orleans  born,  lie  had  learned  some  of  the 
Creole's  lethargy,  much  of  his  love  of  pleasure  and  his  child- 
ish delight  in  pageantry.  St.  Charles  Street — the  centre 
of  the  American  quarter,  the  focus  of  American  theatres 
and  American  indulo:ences  in  decanter  and  dice  —  seemed 
strangely  un-American  when  Mardigras  filled  it  with  dense 
crowds,  tinsel,  rouge,  grotesque  rags,  Circean  masks,  fool's- 
caps  and  harlequin  colors,  lewdness,  mock  music,  and  tipsy 
buffoonery.  "  We  want,"  said  one  American  of  strange 
ambition,  "  to  make  our  city  the  Xaples  of  America." 

By  and  by  a  cloud  darkened  the  sky.  Civil  war  came 
on.  The  Creole,  in  that  struggle,  was  little  different  from 
the  Southerner  at  large.  A  little  more  impetuous,  it  may 
be,  a  little  more  gayly  reckless,  a  little  more  prone  to  rea- 
son from  desire ;  gallant,  brave,  enduring,  faithful ;  son, 
grandson,  great-grandson,  of  good  soldiers,  and  a  better 
soldier  every  way  and  truer  to  himself  than  his  courageous 


LATE  11   DAYS.  OQ'J 

• 

forefathers.  He  was  early  at  Pensacola.  Jle  was  at 
Charleston  when  the  first  gun  was  fired.  The  first  hero 
that  came  back  from  the  Virginia  Peninsula  on  his  shield 
was  a  Cj-eole.  It  was  often  he  who  broke  the  quiet 
along  the  Potomac,  now  with  song  and  now  with  rifie-shot. 
He  was  at  ^Uill-Pun,  at  Shiloh,  on  all  those  blood-steeped 
fields  arouhu  Richmond.  He  marched  and  foudit  with 
Stonewall  Jackson.  At  Mobile,  at  the  end,  he  was  there. 
:Xo  others  were  quite  so  good  for  siege  guns  and  water- 
batteries.  What  fields  are  not  on  iiis  folded  banners  'i 
He  went  through  it  all.  JJut  we  will  not  follow  him. 
Xeither  will  we  write  the  history  of  his  town  in  those 
dread  days.  Arming,  marching,  blockade,  siege,  surrender, 
military  occupation,  grass-grown  streets,  hungry  women, 
darkened  homes,  broken  hearts,— let  ns  not  write  the 
chapter  ;  at  least,  not  yet. 

The  war  passed.  The  bittei-  days  of  Reconstruction  fol- 
lowed. They,  too,  nmst  rest  unrecounted.  The  sky  is 
brightening  again.  The  love  of  the  American  Union  has 
come  back  to  the  Creole  and  the  American  of  New  Orleans 
stronger,  for  its  absence,  than  it  ever  was  before  ;  stron«'-er 
founded  in  a  triple  sense  of  right,  necessity,  and  choice. 

The  great  south  gate  of  the  Mississippi  stood,  in  ISSO, 
a  city  of  two  hundred  and  sixteen  thousand  people,  and 
has  been  growing  ever  cince.  Only  here  and  there  a  broad 
avenue,  with  double  roadway  and  slender  grassy  groves  of 
forest  trees  between,  marks  the  old  dividing  lines  of  the 
faubourgs  that  have  from   time   to  time   been   gathej-ed 


2G4  THE  CREOLES  OF   LOUISIANA. 

• 

within  her  boiiiulariGs.  llcr  streets  measure  five  hundred 
and  sixty-six  miles  of  length.  One  hundred  and  forty 
miles  of  street  railway  traverse  them.  Her  wealtli  in  1SS2, 
was  ^112,000,000.  Her  imports  are  light,  but  no  other 
American  city  save  Xew  York  has  such  an  annual  export. 
Her  harbor,  varying  from  GO  to  280  feet  in  depth,  and 
from  1,500  to  3,000  feet  in  width,  measures  twelve  miles 
in  length  on  either  shore,  and  more  than  half  of  this  is  in 
actual  use.  In  18S3,  over  2,000,000  bales  of  cotton  passed 
through  her  gates,  to  home  or  foreign  markets. 

One  of  the  many  developments  in  the  world's  commerce, 
im  foreseen  by  New  Orleans  in  her  days  of  over-confidence, 
was  the  increase  in  the  size  of  sea-going  vessels.  It  had 
been  steady  and  rapid,  but  was  only  noticed  when  the 
larger  vessels  began  to  shun  the  bars  and  mud-hnnps  of 
the  river's  mouths.  In  1852  there  were,  for  weeks,  nearly 
forty  ships  aground  there,  suffering  detentions  of  from 
two  days  to  eight  weeks.  It  is  true,  some  slack-handed 
attention  had  been  given  to  these  bars  from  the  earliest 
times.  Even  in  1T21,  M.  de  Pauger,  a  French  engineer, 
had  recommended  a  system  for  scouring  them  away,  by 
confining  the  current,  not  materially  different  fi-om  that 
which  proved  so  successful  one  hundred  and  fifty  years 
latei*.  The  United  States  Government  made  surveys  and 
reports  in  1829,  '37,  '39,  '47,  and  '51.  But,  while  nature  was 
now  shoaling  one  "  pass  "  and  now  deepening  another,  the 
effort  to  keep  them  open  artificially  was  not  efficiently  or 
persistently  made.      Dredging,  harrowing,  jetty ing,  and 


LATER  DAYS.  205 

sitle-canalling— all  were  proposed,  and  some  were  tried  ; 
but  nothing  of  a  permanent  character  was  effected.  In 
1853  vessels  were  again  grounding  on  the  bars,  where 
some  of  them  remained  for  months. 

At  length,  in  1874,  Mr.  James  B.  Eads  came  forward 
with  a  proposition  to  secure  a  permanent  channel  in  one 
of  the  passes,  twenty-eight  feet  deep,  by  a  system  of  jet- 
ties.    He  met  with  strenuous  opposition  from  professional 
and  unprofessional  sources,  but  overcame  both  man  and 
nature,  and  in  July,  18T9,  successfully  completed  the  work 
which  has  made  him  world-famous  and  which  promises  to 
Xew  Orleans  once  more  a  magnificent  future.     Through 
a  "pass"  where  a  few  years  ago  vessels  of  ten  feet  draft 
went  aground,  a  depth  of  thirty  feet  is  assured,  and  there 
are  no  ships  built  that  may  not   come   to   her  wharves. 
Capital  has  responded  to  this  great  change.      Railroads 
have  hurried  and  are  hurrying  down  upon  the  city,  and 
have  joined  her  with  Mexico  and  California  ;  manufactur- 
ing interests  are  multiplying  steadily  ;  new  energies,  new 
ambitions,  are  felt  by  her  people  ;  for  the  first  time  within 
a  quarter  of  a  century  buildings  in  the  heart  of  the  town 
are  being  torn  down  to  make  room  for  better.     As  these 
lines  are  being  written  the  city  is  engrossed  in  prepara- 
tions for  a  universal  exposition  projected  on  the  largest 
scale ;  the  very  Creole  himself  is  going  to  ask  the  world  to 
come  and  see  him.     In  every  department  of  life  and  every 
branch  of  society  there  is  earnest,  intelligent  effort  to  remove 
old  drawbacks  and  prepare  for  the  harvests  of  richer  years. 


XXXV. 


INUNDATIONS. 


rrillE  people  of  Xew  Orleans  take  pride  in  Canal  Street. 
It  is  to  the  modern  town  what  the  Place  d'Arnies 
was  to  the  old.  Here  stretch  out  in  long  parade,  in  va- 
riety of  heljj*it  and  color,  the  great  retail  stores,  display- 
ing their  silken  and  fine  linen  and  golden  seductions  ;  and 
the  fair  Creole  and  American  girls,  and  the  self-deprecia- 
ting American  mothers,  and  the  majestic  Creole  matrons, 
all  black  lace  and  alitbaster,  swarm  and  lium  and  push  in 
and  out  and  flit  here  and  there  among  the  rich  things, 
and  fine  things,  the  novelties  and  the  bargains.  Its  eigh- 
teen-feet  sidewalks  are  loftily  roofed  from  edge  to  edge  by 
continuous  balconies  that  on  gala-days  arc  stayed  up  with 
extra  scantlings,  and  yet  seem  ready  to  come  splintering 
down  mider  the  crowd  of  parasolled  ladies  sloping  upward 
on  them  from  front  to  back  in  the  fashion  of  the  amphi- 
theatre. Its  two  distinct  granite-paved  roadways  are  each 
forty  feet  wide,  and  the  tree-bordered  "  neutral  ground  " 
between  measures  fifty-four  feet  across.  It  was  ''  neutral  " 
when  it  divided   between  the  French  quarter  and  the 


INT'XDATIOXS.  2G7 

American  at  the  time  wlien  tlieir  "  municipalitv  "  goverii- 
irients  were  distinct  from  eacli  other. 

In  Canal  Street,  well-nigii  all  the  street-car  lines  in 
town  begin  and  end.  The  (irand  Opera  11  oiiise  is  here; 
also,  the  Art  Tnion.  The  club-houses  glitter  here.  If 
Jackson  Square  has  one  bronze  statue,  ("anal  Street  has 
anothei',  and  it  is  still  an  open  question  which  is  the  worst. 
At  the  base  of  Jlenry  Clay's  pedestal,  the  people  rally  to 
hear  the  demagogues  in  days  of  political  fever,  and  the 
tooth-paste  orator  in  nights  of  financial  hypertroi)hy. 
Here  are  the  grand  reviews.  Here  the  resplendent  ^Nfys- 
tic  Krewe  marches  by  calcium  lights  on  carnival  nights  up 
one  roadway  and  down  the  othei-,  and 

"  Pt'ifmiif  ;iinl  flowers  fall  in  shuwrrs, 
That  liglitiy  rain  from  ladii's'  liauds." 

Hero  is  the  huge  granite  custom-house,  that  "never  is 
l»ut  always  to  be  "  finished.  Here  is  a  row  of  stores  momi- 
mental  to  the  sweet  memory  of  the  benevolent  old  Portu- 
guese Jew  whom  Newport,  Tihode  Island,  as  well  as  New 
Orleans,  gratefully  honors — Ju<lah  Touro.  Here  sit  the 
Hower  niai'cfiamh'.^  making  bouquets  of  jasmines  and  roses, 
clove-pinks,  violets,  and  lady-slippers.  Here  the  Creole 
boys  drink  mead,  and  on  the  balconies  above  maidens  and 
their  valentines  sip  sherbets  in  the  starlight.  Here  only, 
in  New  Orleans,  the  American  "  bar "  puts  on  a  partial 
disguise.  Here  is  the  way  to  West  End  and  to  Spanish 
Fort,  little  lakeside  spots  of  a  diminished  Coney  Island 


208  THE  CREOLKS   OF  LOUISIANA. 

sort.  Here  the  gay  caiTiage-partics  turn  northwestward, 
ficurrying  away  to  tlie  races.  Yea,  here  the  funeral  train 
breaks  into  a  trot  toward  the  cemeteries  of  Metairie  liidge. 
Here  is  Christ's  Church,  witli  its  canopied  weddings. 
Here  the  ring-politician  mounts  perpetual  guard,  lleie 
the  gambler  seeks  whom  he  may  induce  to  walk  around  into 
his  parlor  in  the  Hue  Itoyale  or  St.  Charles  Street.  And 
here,  in  short,  throng  the  members  of  the  great  Xew  Orleans 
Creole- American  house  of  "  AValker,  Doolittle  tt  Co.'' 

One  does  not  need  to  be  the  the  oldest  resident  to  re- 
member when  this  neutral  ground  in  Canal  Street  was  still 
a  place  of  tethered  horses,  roaming  goats,  and  fluttering 
lines  of  drying  shirts  and  petticoats.  In  those  days  an 
old  nnilc  used  to  drag  his  dejected  way  slowly  round  and 
round  in  an  unchanging  circle  on  the  shabby  grassed  ave- 
nue, just  behind  the  spot  where  the  statue  of  Henry  Clay 
was  later  erected  by  good  Whigs  in  1.S5G.  An  aged  and 
tattered  negro  was  the  nude's  ringmaster,  and  an  artesian 
well  was  the  object  of  his  peaceful  revolution. 

Xo  effort  deeply  to  probe  the  city's  site  had  ever  before 
been  made,  nor  has  there  been  any  later  attempt  thus  to 
draw  up  the  pre-historic  records  of  the  Delta.  The  allu- 
vial surface  deposit  is  generally  two  or  three  feet  thick, 
and  rests  on  a  substratum  of  uniform  and  tenacious  blue 
clay.  The  well  in  Canal  Street  found  this  clay  fifteen  feet 
deep.  Below  it  lay  four  feet  more  of  the  same  clay  mixed 
with  woody  matter.  Under  this  was  a  mixture  of  sand 
and  clay  ten  feet  thick,  resembling  the  annual  deposits  of 


INUNDATIONS.  OgO 

the  rivor.  Beneath  this  was  found,  one  after  anotlier, 
continual,  irregular  alternations  of  these  clay  strata,  some- 
times a  foot,  sometimes  sixty  feet  thick,  and  layers  of  sand 
and  shells  and  of  mixtures  of  these  with  clay.  Sometimes 
a  stratum  of  (luicksand  was  passed.  At  live  hundred  and 
eighty-two  feet  was  encountered  a  layer  of  hard  pan  ;  but 
throughout  no  masses  of  rock  were  found,  only  a  few 
water-worn  pebbles  and  some  contorted  and  perforated 
stones.  No  abundance  of  water  flowed.  Still,  in  the 
shabby,  goat-haunted  neutral  ground  above,  gaped  at  by 
the  neutral  crowd,  in  the  wide,  blinding  Iieat  of  midsum- 
mer, the  long  lever  continued  to  creak  round  its  tremu- 
lous circle.  At  length  it  stopped.  At  a  depth  of  six  hun- 
dred and  thirty  feet  the  well  was  abandoned-for  vague 
reasons  left  to  the  custody  of  tradition ;  some  say  the 
nuile  died,  some  say  the  negro. 

Ilowevei-,  the  work  done  was  not  without  value.  It 
must  have  emphasized  the  sanitary  necessity  for  an  elabo- 
rate artificial  drainage  of  the  city's  site,  and  it  served  to 
contradict  a  very  prevalent  and  solicitous  outside  belief 
that  Xew  Orleans  was  built  on  a  thin  crust  of  mud,  which 
she  might  at  any  moment  break  through,  when  towers, 
spires,  and  all  would  ingloriously  disappear.  The  continual 
alternations  of  tough  clay  and  loose  sand  and  shells  in  such 
variable  thicknesses  gave  a  clear  illustration  of  the  condi- 
tions of  Delta  soil  that  favor  the  undermining  of  the  Mis- 
sissippi banks  and  their  fall  into  the  river  at  low  stages  of 
water,  levees  being  often  carried  with  them. 


270 


THE   CUEOLES   OF    LOUI.SIANA. 


These  caviiij^s  are  not  generully  o'ci'asses.  A  crevasse 
is  commonly  the  result  of  the  levee  yielding  to  the  press- 
ure of  the  river's  waters,  heaped  \\\^  against  it  often  to  the 
height  of  ten  or  fifteen  feet  above  the  level  of  the  land. 
Uut  the  caving-in  of  old  levees  requires  their  replacement 
by  new  and  higher  ones  on  the  lower  land  farther  back, 


1 

V 

"  V''^' 

! 
i 

i 

•■^          «^»* 

^^^       .,.M,. 

'■S*r 

^  ""VV'' 

2?fe 

-tS^'--^ 

■:;^*L^,_l^   ■-  .: 

^'"^ 

f 

-'^.^ 

^**V 

«- 

r.-:>^ 

.*.--^     ■•_ 

^KS^'T^^^^^^ 

^'Ky. 

A  Crovasso.      (Story's   Planlation,    1882) 

and  a  crevasse  often  occurs  through  the  weakness  of  a 
new  levee  which  is  not  yet  solidified,  or  whose  covering 
of  tough  Bermuda  turf  has  not  yet  grown.  The  fact  is 
widelv  familiar,  too,  that  when  a  craw-fish  has  burrowed 
in  a  levee,  the  water  <»f  the  river  may  squirt  in  and  out  of 
this  little  tunnel,  till  a  section  of  the  levee  becomes  satu- 
rated aud  softened,  and  sometimes  slides  shoreward  bodily 


INUNDATIONS.  271 

froiM  its  base,  and  lets  in  the  tloutl,— roaring,  leaping,  and 
tnnibling  over  the  rich  plantations  and  down  into  the 
swamp  behind  them,  levelling,  tearing  np,  drowning,  de- 
stroying, and  sweei)ing  awav  as  it  goes. 

New  Orleans  may  be  inundated  either  by  a  crevasse  or 
by  the  rise  of  backwater  on  its  northern  sitle  from  J.ake 
Pontchartrain.     IJayoii  St.  John  is  but  a  prehistoric  cre- 
vasse minus  only  the  artiticial  levee.     A  long-prevailing 
southeast    wind    will  obstruct   the  outflow  of   the  lake's 
waters  through  the  narrow  passes  by  which  they  commonly 
reach  the  Gulf  of  :\[e.xico,  and  the  rivers  and  old  crevasses 
emptying  into  the  lake  from  the  north  and  cast  will  be 
virtually  poured  into  the  streets  of  Xew  Orleans.    A  vio- 
lent storm  blowing  across  Pontchartrain  from  the  north 
produces  the  same  result.     At  certain  seasons,  the  shores 
of  river,  lake,  and  canals  liave  to  be  patrolled  day  and 
night  to  guard  the  wide,  shallow  basin  in  which   the  city 
lies  from  the  insidious  encroachments  of  the  waters  that 
overhang  it  on  every  side. 

It  is  difficult,  in  a  faithful  description,  to  avoid  giving 
an  exaggerated  idea  of  these  floods.  ( 'ertalnly,  lariTe  j,oi! 
tions  of  the  city  are  inundated  ;  miles  of  streets  become 
canals.  Tiie  waters  rise  into  yards  and  gardens  and  then 
into  rooms.  Skiffs  enter  the  poor  manVs  parlor  and  bed- 
room to  bring  the  morning's  milk  or  to  carry  away  to 
higher  ground  his  goods  and  chattels.  All  nianner  of 
loose  stuff  floats  about  the  streets ;  the  house-cat  sits  on 
the  gate-post ;  huge  rats  come  swimming,  in  mute  and 


272  THE  CREOLES   OF  LOUISIANA. 

loathsome  despair,  from  that  house  to  this  one,  and  are 
pelted  to  death  from  the  windows.  Even  snakes  seek  the 
same  asylum.  Those  who  have  the  choice  avoid  such  dis- 
tricts, and  the  city  has  consequently  lengthened  out  awk- 
wardly along  the  higher  grounds  down,  and  especially  up, 
the  river  shore. 

But  the  town  is  not  ingulfed ;  life  is  not  endangered  ; 
trade  goes  on  in  its  main  districts  mostly  dry-shod,  and  the 
merchant  goes  and  conies  between  his  home  and  his  count- 
ing-room as  usual  in  the  tinkling  street-cars,  merely  catch- 
ing glimpses  of  the  water  down  the  cross  streets. 

The  humbler  classes,  on  the  other  hand,  suffer  severely. 
Their  gardens  and  poultry  are  destroyed,  their  houses  and 
houseliold  goods  are  damaged  ;  their  working  days  are  dis- 
counted. The  rich  and  the  authorities,  having  defaulted 
in  the  ounce  of  preventive,  come  forward  with  their  in- 
effectual pound  of  cure  ;  relief  committees  are  formed  and 
skiffs  ply  back  and  forth  distributing  bread  to  the  thus 
doubly  humbled  and  doubly  damaged  poor. 

No  considerable  increase  of  sickness  seems  to  follow 
these  overflows.  They  cannot  more  completely  drench  so 
ill-drained  a  soil  than  would  any  long  term  of  rainy 
weather  ;  but  it  hardly  need  be  said  that  neither  condition 
is  healthful  under  a  southern  sky. 

In  the  beginning  of  the  town's  existence,  the  floods 
came  almost  yearly,  and  for  a  long  time  afterward  they 
were  frequent.  The  old  moat  and  palisaded  embankment 
around  the  Spanish  town  did  not  always  keep  them  out. 


INUXDATIOXS.  273 

There  was  a  disastrous  one  in  ITSo,  wlicn  the  Creoles 
were  strained  to  the  utmost  to  ])ear  tlie  burdens  of  tlieir 
darin<^'  young  (iovernor  (ialvez's  cainpaii^^ns  a<:ainst  the 
IJritisli.  Another  occurred  in  17.S5,  when  ]\Iiru  was  gov- 
ernor; anotlier  in  17J>1,  the  last  year  of  his  incuinhencv  ; 
another  in  ITOy.  All  these  came  from  river  crevasses 
above  the  town.  The  last  occurred  near  wliere  C'arrollton, 
now  part  of  New  Oi-leans,  was  afterward  built.  Another 
overflow,  in  1818,  came  from  a  crevasse  only  a  mile  or  two 
above  tliis  one. 

Next  followed  the  noted  overflow  of  May,  1810.  The 
same  levee  that  had  broken  in  1790  was  undermined  by 
the  current,  which  still  strikes  the  baidv  at  Carrollton  with 
innnense  power;  it  gave  way  and  the  floods  of  the  Missis- 
sippi poured  through  the  break.  On  the  fourth  day  after- 
ward, the  waters  liad  made  their  way  across  sugar-flelds 
and  through  swamps  and  into  the  rear  of  the  little  citv 
liad  covered  the  suburbs  of  Gravier,  Trc'nie,  and  St.  Jean 
with  from  three  to  five  feet  of  their  turl>id,  yellow  flood, 
and  were  crawling  up  toward  the  front  of  the  river-side 
suburbs— Montegut,  La  C  ourse,  Ste.  Marie,  and  Marigny. 
In  those  days,  the  corner  of  Canal  and  Chartres  Streets 
was  only  some  three  hundred  yards  from  the  river  shore. 
The  flood  came  up  to  it.  One  could  take  a  skiff  at  that 
point  and  row  to  Dauphine  Street,  down  Daupliine  to 
Bienville,  down  Bienville  to  Burgundy,  in  Burgundy  to 
St.  Louis  Street,  from  St.  Louis  to  Bampart,  and  so 
tliroughout  the  rear  suburbs,  now  the  Quadroon  quarter. 


18 


274 


THE  CREOLES   OF   LOUISIANA. 


The  breach  was  stopped  by  sinking  in  it  a  three-masted 
vessel.  Tlie  waters  found  vent  through  Bayous  St.  John 
and  Bienvenu  to  tlie  hd^e ;  but  it  was  twenty -five  days  be- 
fore they  were  quite  gone.  Tliis  twelvemonth  was  the 
healthiest  in  a  period  of  forty  years. 


In  the  Quadroon  Quarter. 

In  1831,  a  storm  blew  the  waters  of  Lake  Pontchartrain 
np  to  within  six  hundred  yards  of  the  levee.  The  same 
thing  occurred  in  October,  1837,  when  bankruptcy  as  well 
as  back  waters  swamped  the  town.  The  same  waters  were 
driven  almost  as  far  in  1844,  and  again  in  1846. 

It  would  seem  as  if  town  pride  alone  would  have  seized 
a  spade  and  thrown  up  a  serviceable  levee  around  the  city. 


INUNDATIONS.  075 

Ilut  town  pride  in  Xew  Orleans  was  only  born  about  ls;j«;, 
and  was  a  puny  cbild.  Not  one  American  in  live  looked 
on  the  place  as  his  i)ennanent  home.  As  for  those  who 
did,  the  life  they  had  received  from  their  fathers  had  be- 
come modified.  Some  of  them  were  a  native  generation. 
Creole  contact  liad  been  felt.  The  same  influences,  too, 
of  climate,  landscape,  and  institutions,  that  had  made  the 
Creole  unique  was  de-Saxonizing  the  American  of  the 
"  Second  Municipality,"  and  givinir  special  force  to  those 
two  traits  which  everywhere  characterized  the  slave-holder 
—improvidence,  and  that  feudal  self-completeness  which 
looked  with  indolent  contempt  upon  public  co-operative 
measures. 

The  Creole's  answer  to  suggestive  iufpiiry  concerning 
the  prevention  of  overflows,  it  may  easily  be  guessed,  was 
a  short,  warm  question  :  "  How  ?  "  He  thought  one  ought 
to  tell  him.  He  has  ten  good  "  cannots "  to  one  small 
"can"— or  once  had ;  the  proportion  is  better  now,  and 
80  is  the  drainage  ;  and  still,  heat,  moisture,  malaria,  and 
provincial  exile  make  a  Creole  of  whoever  settles  down 
beside  liim. 

In  1836,  a  municipal  draining  company  was  formed, 
and  one  draining  wheel  erected  at  Bayou  St.  John.  In 
1838,  a  natural  drain  behind  the  American  quarter  was 
broadened  and  deepened  into  a  foul  ditch  known  as 
Melpomene  Canal.  And  in  1840,  came  the  worst  inunda- 
tion the  city  has  ever  suffered. 


XXXVI. 

SAUVli'S    CREVASSE. 

/^X  tlie  3d  of  May,  1S49,  the  Mississippi  was  liigher 
than  it  liad  been  before  in  twenty-one  years.  Every 
liere  and  there  it  was  licking  the  levee's  crown,  swinging 
heavily  around  the  upper  end  of  its  great  bends,  gliding 
in  wide,  enormous  volume  down  upon  the  opposite  bank 
below,  heaving  its  vast  weight  and  force  against  the 
earthen  barrier,  fretting,  quaking,  recoiling,  boiling  like 
a  pot,  and  turning  again  and  billowing  away  like  a  mon- 
strous yellow  serpent,  crested  with  its  long  black  line  of 
driftwood,  to  throw  itself  once  more  against  the  farther 
bank,  in  its  mad,  blind  search  for  outlet. 

Everywhere,  in  such  times,  the  anxious  Creole  planter 
may  be  seen,  broad-hatted  and  swarthy,  standing  on  his 
levee's  top.  All  night  the  uneasy  lantern  of  the  patrol 
flits  along  the  same  line.  Rills  of  seepage  water  wet  the 
road — which  in  Louisiana  always  runs  along  against  the 
levee's  inner  side— and  here  and  there  make  miry  places. 
"  Cribs  "  are  being  built  around  weak  spots.  Sand-bags 
are  held  in  readiness.  The  huge,  ungainly  cane-carts, 
with  their  high,  broad-tired  wheels  and  flaring  blue  bodies, 


Mt.r^'VK'w-T  v:  .'-..jp 


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SAUVij'S    CREVASSE.  279 

each  drawn  by  tliree  sunburned  mules  al)rcast,  come  hun- 
bering  from  the  sugar-house  yard  with  loads  of  haydsse, 
M'ith  which  to  give  a  fibrous  hold  to  the  hasty  earthworks 
called  for  by  the  hour's  emergency.  Here,  at  the  most 
dangerous  spot,  the  muscular  strength  of  the  estate  is 
grouped  ;  a  saddled  Iiorse  stands  hitched  to  the  road-side 
fence  ;  the  overseer  is  giving  his  short,  eniT^hatic  orders  in 
the  negro  French  of  the  plantations,  and  the  black  man, 
glancing  ever  and  anon  upon  him  with  Iiis  large  brown 
eye,  comes  here  and  goes  there,  U  vlnl  'ci,  U  coiirrl  Id. 
Will  they  bo  able  to  make  the  levee  stand  ?  Nobody 
knows. 

In  1849,  some  seventeen  miles  above  Xew  Orleans  by 
the  river's  course,  and  on  the  same  side  of  the  stream,  was 
Sauve's  plantation.  From  some  cause,  known  or  unknown, 
— sometimes  the  fact  is  not  even  suspected, — the  levee 
along  its  river-front  was  weak.  In  the  afternoon  of  the 
3d  of  May,  the  great  river  suddenly  burst  through  it,  and, 
instantly  defying  all  restraints,  plunged  down  over  the 
land,  roaring,  rolling,  writhing,  sprawling,  whirling,  over 
pastures  and  cane-fields  and  rice -fields,  through  groves  and 
negro  quarters  and  sugar-houses,  slipping  through  rose- 
hedged  lanes  and  miles  of  fence,  gliding  through  willow 
jungles  and  cypress  forests,  on  and  on,  to  smite  in  rear 
and  flank  the  city  that,  seventeen  miles  away,  lay  peering 
alertly  over  its  front  breastworks.  The  people  of  the 
town  were  not,  at  first,  concerned.  They  believed  and 
assured  each  other  the  water  would  find  its  way  across  into 


280  THE   CKEOLE.^   OF   LOUISIANA. 

Lake  Pontchartrain  without  coming  down  upon  them. 
The  Americans  exceeded  the  Creoles  in  absolute  torpor. 
They  threw  up  no  line  behind  their  municipality.  Every 
day  that  passed  saw  the  swamp  filling  more  and  more  with 
yellow  water ;  presently  it  crawled  up  into  the  suburbs, 
and  when  the  twelfth  day  had  gone  by,  Ilampart  Street, 
the  old  town's  rear  boundary,  was  covered. 

The  Creoles,  in  their  quarter,  had  strengthened  the 
small  levee  of  canal  Carondelet  on  its  lower  side  and  shut 
off  the  advancinjj  flood  from  the  district  bevond  it ;  but 
Lafayette  and  the  older  American  quarter  were  completely 
exposed.  The  water  crept  on  daily  for  a  fortnight  longer. 
In  the  suburb  Bouligny,  afterward  part  of  Jefferson  or  the 
Sixth  DisLi-^at,  it  reached  to  Camp  Street.  In  Lafayette, 
it  stopped  within  thirty  yards  of  where  these  words  are 
being  written,  and  withdrawing  toward  the  forest,  ran 
along  behind  Bacchus  (Baronne)  Street,  sometimes  touch- 
ing Carondelet,  till  it  reached  Canal  Street,  crossed  that 
street  between  lloval  and  Bourbon,  and  thence  stretched 
downward  and  backward  to  the  Old  Basin.  "  About  two 
hundred  and  twenty  inhabited  squares  were  flooded,  more 
than  two  thousand  tenements  surrounded  by  water,  and  a 
population  of  nearly  twelve  thousand  souls  driven  from 
their  homes  or  conjpelled  to  live  an  aquatic  life  of  much 
privation  and  suffering." 

In  the  meantime,  hundreds  of  men,  white  and  black, 
were  constantly  at  the  breach  in  the  levee,  trying  to  close 
it.     Pickets,  sand-bags,  hagasse^  were  all  in  vain.     Seven 


Sxvuvi:'s  CREVASSE.  281 

hundred  feet  of  piling  were  driven,  but  unskilfully  placed ; 
a  ship's  hull  was  filled  with  stone  and  sunk  in  the  half- 
closed  opening,  but  the  torrent  burrowed  around  it  and 
swept  away  the  works.  Other  unskilled  efforts  failed,  and 
only  on  the  third  of  June  was  professional  scientific  aid 
called  in,  and  seventeen  days  afterward  the  crevasse  was 
closed. 

At  length,  the  long-submerged  streets  and  sidewalks 
rose  sliniily  out  of  the  retreating  waters,  heavy  rains  fell 
opportunely  and  washed  into  the  swamp  the  offensive 
deposits  that  had  threatened  a  second  distress,  and  the 
people  set  about  repairing  their  disasters.  The  streets 
were  in  sad  dilapidation.  The  Second  Municipality  alone 
levied,  in  the  following  year,  four  hundred  thousand  dol- 
lars to  cover  "  actual  expenditures  on  streets,  wharves,  and 
crevasses."  The  wharves  were,  most  likely,  in  the  main, 
new  work.  A  levee  was  thrown  up  behind  the  munici- 
pality  along  the  line  of  Claiborne  Street  and  up  Felicity 
road  to  Carondelet  Street. 

Still  oveifiows  came,  and  came,  and  overcame.  A 
serious  one  occurred  only  four  years  ago.'  At  such  times, 
the  fortunate  are  nobly  generous  to  the  unfortunate  ;  but 
the  distress  passes,  the  emotional  impulses  pass  with  it, 
and  precautions  for  the  future  ai-e  omitted  or  soon  fall 
into  neglect.  The  inundation  of  ISNO  simply  overran  the 
dilapidated  top  of  a  neglected  levee  on  the  town's  lake 


'  1880. 


282  THE  CREOLES   OF  LOUISIANA. 

side.  The  uneconomical  habits  of  the  old  South  still  cling. 
Private  burdens  are  but  faintly  recognized,  and  the  next 
norther  ir  a/  swamp  the  little  fortunes  of  the  city's  hard- 
working poor. 

The  hopeful  in  New  Orleans  look  for  an  early  day  when 
a  proper  drainage  system  shall  change  all  this, — a  system 
which  shall  incluue  underground  sewerage  and  complete 
the  levee,  already  partly  made,  which  is  to  repeat  on  a 
greatly  enlarged  scale,  above  and  below  the  city  and  along 
the  lake  shore  behind  it,  the  old  wall  and  moat  that  once 
surrounded  the  Spanish  town  in  Canal,  Rampart,  and  Es- 
planade Streets.  The  present  system  consists  merely  of  a 
poor  and  partial  surface  drainage  in  open  street-gutters, 
emptying  into  canals  at  whose  further  end  the  waters  are 
lifted  over  the  rear  levees  by  an  appliance  of  old  Dutch 
paddle-wheel  pumps  run  by  steam.  Even  the  sudden 
heavy  showers  that  come  with  their  singeing  lightnings 
and  ear-cracking  peals  of  thunder,  are  enough,  at  present, 
to  overflow  the  streets  of  the  whole  town,  often  from  sill 
to  sill  of  opposite  houses  and  stores,  holding  the  life  of  a 
great  city  water-bound  for  hours,  making  strange  arch- 
way and  door-way  groups  of  beggar  and  lady,  clerk,  fop, 
merchant,  artisan,  fruit-peddler,  negro  porter,  priest, 
tattered  girl,  and  every  other  sort  of  fine  or  pitiful  human 
nature. 

An  adequate  system,  comprising  a  thorough  under- 
drainage,  would  virtually  raise  the  city's  whole  plain  ten 
feet,  and  give  a  character  of  soil  under  foot  incalculably 


SAUVE  S   CREVASSE.  2^3 

valuable  for  the  improvement  it  would  effect  in  the  health 
and  energies  of  'the  people.  Such  a  system  is  entii-ely 
feasible,  is  within  the  people's  means,  has  been  tested  else- 
where, extensively  and  officially  approved,  and  requires 
only  the  subscription  of  capital. 

But  we  go  astray.  We  have  got  out  upon  the  hither 
side  of  those  volcanoes  of  civil  war  and  reconstruction 
which  it  were  wiser  for  a  time  yet  to  stop  short  of.  Let 
us  draw  back  once  more  for  a  last  view  of  the  "  Crescent 
City's  "  earlier  and  calmer,  though  once  tumultuous  and 
all  too  tragic,  past. 


XXXVII. 

THE  DAYS  OF  PESTILENCE. 

rpiIIE  Kew  Orleans  resident  congratulates  himself — and 
he  does  well — that  he  is  not  as  other  men  are,  in 
other  great  cities,  as  to  breathing-room.  The  desperate 
fondness  with  which  the  Creole  still  clings  to  domestic 
isolation  has  passed  into  the  sentiment  of  all  types  of  the 
city's  life ;  and  as  the  way  is  always  open  for  the  town, 
with  just  a  little  river-sand  filling,  to  spread  farther  and 
farther,  there  is  no  huddling  in  New  Orleans,  or  only  very 
little  here  and  there. 

There  is  assurance  of  plenty  not  only  as  to  space,  but 
also  as  to  time.  Time  may  be  money,  but  money  is  not 
everything,  and  so  there  never  has  been  nnicli  crowding 
over  one  another's  heads  about  business  centres,  never  any 
living  in  sky-reaching  strata.  The  lassitude  which  loads 
every  warm,  damp  breeze  that  blows  in  across  the  all-sur- 
rounding marsh  and  swamp  has  always  been  against  what 
an  old  Xew  Orleans  writer  calls  "knee-cracking  stair- 
ways." Few  houses  lift  their  roofs  to  dizzy  heights,  and 
a  third-story  bedroom  is  not  near  enough  to  be  coveted  by 
many. 


THE  DAYS    OF   PESTILENCE.  285 

Shortly  before  the  war — aiul  the  case  is  not  materially 
changed  in  Xew  Orleans  to-dav — the  number  of  inmates 
to  a  dwelling  was  in  the  proportion  of  six  and  a  half  to 
one.  In  St.  Louis,  it  was  seven  and  three-quarters ;  in 
Cincinnati,  it -was  more  than  eight ;  in  JJoston,  nearly  nine; 
and  in  Xew  York,  over  thirteen  and  a  half.  The  number 
of  persons  to  the  acre  was  a  little  more  than  forty-five. 
In  Philadelphia,  it  was  eighty  ;  in  Boston,  it  Avas  eighty- 
two  ;  in  Xew  York,  it  was  one  hundred  and  thirtv-tive. 

The  climate  never  would  permit  such  swarming  in  Xew 
Orleans.  Xeither  would  the  badly  scavenged  streets  or 
the  soil  which,  just  beneath,  reeks  with  all  the  foul  liquids 
that  human  and  brute  life  can  produce  in  an  unsewered 
city.  It  is  fortunate  that  the  average  X"ew  Orleans  dwell- 
ing is  loosely  thrown  together,  l)uilt  against  sun  and  rain, 
not  wind  and  frost.  This,  with  the  ample  spacings  be- 
tween houses,  and  an  open  plain  all  round,  insures  circula- 
tion of  air — an  air  that  never  blows  extremes  of  hot  or 
cold. 

It  is  true  the  minimum  temperature  is  lower  than  that 
on  the  sea-coast  of  California,  in  pai't  of  Arizona,  and  in 
South  Florida.  That  of  the  Gulf  coasts  and  the  Atlantic 
shores  of  Georgia  and  South  Carolina  is  the  same.  But 
in  every  other  part  of  the  United  States  it  is  lower. 
Once  only  the  thermometer  has  l^een  known  to  sink  to 
sixteen  degrees  Fahrenheit.  Its  mean  January  tempera- 
ture is  fifty-five  degrees  to  sixty  degrees  Fahrenheit,  milder 
than  that  of  any  other  notable  city  in  the  Union,  except 


280  THE  CREOLES   OF   LOUISIAXA. 

Galveston  and  Mobile,  wliich  have  the  same.    Only  Middle 
and  Southern  Florida  have  a  warmer  midwinter.     As  to 
its  sunnners,  every  State  and  Territory,  except  the  five 
Xew  England  States  east  and  north  of  Comiecticut,  expe- 
riences in  some  portion  of  it  a  liigher  maximum  tempera- 
ture than  the  land  of  the  Creoles,  and  the  entire  country 
as  high  a  temperature,  except  parts  of  California,  Oregon, 
AVashington  Territory,  and  two  or  three  regions  directly 
within  the  Itoclcy  Mountains.     Even  its  mean  temperature 
in  the  hottest  month  of  the  year,  July,  is  only  the  same, 
eighty  to  eighty-five  degrees,  as  that  in  every  part  of  the 
South  that  is  not  mountainous,  even  to  the  mouth  of  the 
Ohio,  with  the  Indian  Territory  and  two-thirds  of  Kansas. 
Only  three  times  since  1S19  has  it  risen  to  one  hundred 
degrees,   and   never   beyond.      Whatever   wind    prevails 
comes  tempered  by  the  waters  and  wet  lands  over  which 
it  has  blown.     The  duration  of  this  moderate  heat,  how- 
ever, is  what  counts.     The  mean  temperature  of  Xew 
Orleans  for  the  year  exceeds  that  of  any  region  not  on  the 
Gulf.     It  is  exceeded  only  in  southernmost  Florida.    That 
of  Arkansas,  middle  Mississippi,  middle  Georgia,  and  South 
Carolina  is  ten  degrees  cooler,  and  the  northeastern  quar- 
ter of  Alabama,  Korth  Georgia,  and  AVestern  Xorth  Caro- 
lina have  a  mean  fifteen,  twenty,  and  in  the  mountainous 
parts,  thirty   and  more  degrees  lower.     The  humidity, 
moreover,  is  against  strong  vitality.     The  country  is  not 
to  be  called  a  rainy  one  ;  there  is  no  rainy  season ;  but  the 
rains,  when  they  come,  are  very  heavy.  Over  five  feet  depth 


THE  DAYS   OF   PESTILENCE.  287 

of  water  falls  yearly  on  this  land  of  swamps  and  marshes 
south  of  the  thh-ty-first  parallel  between  Lake  Sabine 
and  Apalachee  Bay;  a  fall  from  four  to  six  times  as 
great  as  Mie  ra'nfall  in  the  arid  regions  of  the  far  West, 
more  than  twice  the  average  for  the  whole  area  of  the 
United  States,  and  greater  than  that  experienced  by  over 
ninety-eight  per  cent,  of  the  whole  population.  The  air's 
diminished  evaporating  powers  make  it  less  cooling  to  man 
and  beast  in  summer  and  more  chilling  in  winter  than  drier 
winds  at  greater  and  lower  temperatures  would  be,  and 
it  comes  always  more  or  less  charged  with  that  uncanny 
quality  which  Creoles,  like  all  other  Xorth  Americans, 
maintain  to  be  never  at  home,  but  always  next  door- 
malaria. 

The  city  does  not  tremble  with  ague;  but  malarial 
fevers  stand  high  in  the  annual  tables  of  mortality,  almost 
all  complaints  are  complicated  by  more  or  less  malarial 
influence,  and  the  reduction  of  vital  force  in  the  daily  life 
of  the  whole  population  is  such  as  few  residents,  except 
physicians,  appreciate.  Lately,  however,— we  linger  in 
the  present  but  a  moment,— attention  has  turned  to  the 
fact  that  the  old  Creole  life,  on  ground  floors,  in  a  damj), 
warm  climate,  over  an  undrained  clay  soil,  has  given 
more  victims  to  malarial  and  tubercular  diseases  than  yel- 
low fever  has  claimed,  and  efforts  to  remove  these  condi- 
tions or  offset  their  ill  effects  are  giving  a  yearly  improv- 
ing public  health. 

What  figures  it  would  require  truthfully  to  indicate  the 


288  THE   CREOLES   OF  LOUISIANA. 

early  insalubrity  of  New  Orleans  it  would  be  hard  to 
gness.  Governor  Perier,  in  1720,  and  the  Baron  Caron- 
delet,  toward  the  close  of  the  last  century,  stand  alone  as 
advocates  for  measures  to  reduce  malarial  and  putrid  fe- 
vers. As  time  wore  on,  partial  surface  drainage,  some 
paving,  some  improvement  in  house-building,  wiser  do- 
mestic life,  the  gradual  retreat  of  the  dank  forest  and 
undergrowth,  a  better  circulation  of  air,  and  some  reduc- 
tion of  humidity,  had  their  good  effects.  Drainage  canals 
— narrow,  shallow,  foul,  ill-placed  things — began  to  be 
added  one  by  one.  When  a  system  of  municipal  cleans- 
ing came  in,  it  was  made  as  vicious  as  ingenuity  could 
contrive  it ;  or,  let  us  say,  as  bad  as  in  other  American 
cities  of  the  time. 

Xeither  the  Creole  nor  the  American  ever  accejDts  sep- 
ulture in  the  ground  of  Orleans  Parish.  Only  the  He- 
brew, whose  religious  law  will  not  take  no  for  an  answer, 
and  the  pauper,  lie  down  in  its  undrained  soil.  The 
tombs  stand  above  ground.  They  are  now  made  of  brick 
or  stone  only  ;  but  in  earlier  days  wood  entered  into  their 
construction,  and  they  often  fell  into  decay  so  early  as  to 
expose  the  bones  of  the  dead.  Every  day  the  ground, 
which  the  dead  shunned,  became  more  and  more  poison- 
ous, and  the  city  spread  out  its  homes  of  the  living  more 
and  more  over  the  poisoned  ground.  In  1830,  the  pop- 
ulation of  New  Orleans  was  something  over  forty-six  thou- 
sand ;  her  life  was  busy,  her  commerce  great,  her  precau- 
tions against  nature's  penalties  for  human  herding  about 


TlIK    DAYS    OF    I'KSTILENCE.  '2S0 

equal  to  notliing.     Slic  was  fully  ripe  for  the  visitatiou 
that  was  in  store. 

In   that   year  the   Asiatic  cholera   passed  around    the 
shores  of  the  Caspian  Sea,  entered  European  Russia,  and 
moved  slowly  westward,  i)receded  by  terror  and  followed 
l»y  lamentation.      In  October,  1831,  it  was  in  En«dand. 
hi  January,  183l>,  it  swept  through   Lontlon.     It  passed 
into  Scotland,  into   Ireland,    Franco,   8})ain,    Italy.       It 
crossed  the  Atlantic  and  ravaged  the  cities  of  its  western 
shore  ;  and,  on  the  2.5th  of  October,  it  reached  New  Orleans. 
An  epidemic  of  yellow  fever  had  been  raging,  and  had 
not  yet  disappeared.     Many  of  the  people  had  Hed  from 
it.     The  population  was  reduced  to  about  thirty-five  thou- 
sand.    How  many  victims  the  new  pestilence  carried  off 
can  never  be  known  ;  but  six  thousand,  over  one-sixth  of 
the   people,    fell   in    twenty  days.      On   some   days   five 
hundred   persons    died.     For   once,    the    rallying-ground 
of   the   people  was  not  the  Place   d^Vrmes.     The  ceme- 
teries were  too  small.     Trenches  took  the  place  of  graves ; 
the  dead  M'ere  hauled  to  them,  uncoffined,  in  cart-loads 
and  dumped  in.     Large  numbers  were  carried  by  night 
to  the  river-side,  weighted  with  stones  from  the  ballast- 
piles   abreast   the   idle    shipping,    and    thrown   into   the 
Mississippi.     The  same  mortality  in  Xew  Orleans  with  its 
present  population  would  carry  oft",  in  three  weeks,  thirty- 
nine  thousand  victims.     The  Xew  Basin  was  being  dug  by 
hand.     Hundreds  of  Irish  were  standing  here  in  water 

and  mud  and  sun,  throwing  up  the  corrupted  soil  with 
19 


290  THK   CIIKOLKS   OF   LOUISIANA. 

tliuir  sliovcb,  and  the  liuvuc  aruoiig  them,  says  tradition, 
was  awful. 

The  liistoiy  of  tlie  town  sliows  tliat  years  of  much  sum- 
mer-digging have  always  been  years  of  great  mortality. 
In  1811,  when  Carondelet's  old  canal  was  cleaned  out, 
seven  per  cent,  of  the  people  died.  In  iMlS,  when  it  was 
cleaned  out  again,  seven  per  cent,  again  died.  In  lS2:i, 
when  its  cleaning  out  was  again  begun,  eight  and  a  half 
per  cent.  died.  In  1883,  when,  the  year  after  the  great 
cholera  fatality,  the  Xew  Canal  was  dug  to  the  lake,  eight 
and  a  lialf  per  cent,  again  died.  In  1887,  when  numy 
draining  trenches  were  dug,  seven  per  cent.  died.  In  1847, 
there  was  nnicli  new  ditching,  Melpomene  Canal  was 
cleaned  out,  and  over  eight  per  cent,  of  the  people  died. 
The  same  work  went  on  through  '48  and  '49,  and  seven 
and  eight  per  cent.  died.  But  never  before  or  after  1832 
did  death  recruit  his  pale  armies  by  so  frightful  a  con- 
scription, in  this  plague-haunted  town,  as  marked  that 
year  of  double  calamity,  when,  from  a  total  population 
of  but  fifty-five  thousand,  present  and  absent,  over  eight 
thousand  fell  before  their  xVsian  and  African  destrovers. 


xxxviir. 

THE   (lllEAT   EPIDEMIC. 

rpiIREE-QrAIiTElIS  of  a  century  liad  passed  over 
the  little  France )-Spiinisli  town,  hidden  under  the 
Mississippi's  downward-retreating  bank  in  the  edue  of 
its  Delta  swamp  on  Orleans  Island,  l)ei"<no  the  sallow 
spectre  of  yellow  fover  was  distinctly  recognized  in  her 
streets  and  in  her  darkened  chand)ers. 

That  it  had  come  and  gone  earlier,  but  unidentified,  is 
altogether  likely.  In  170<'»  especially,  the  year  in  which 
UUoa  came  with  his  handful  of  Ilavanese  soldiers  to  take 
possession  for  Spain,  there  was  an  epidemic  which  at 
least  resembled  the  great  AVcst  Indian  scourge.  Undei* 
the  commercial  concessions  that  followed,  the  town  ex- 
panded into  a  brisk  port.  Trade  with  the  AVest  Indies 
grew,  and  in  1796,  the  yellow  fever  was  confronted  and 
called  by  name. 

From  that  date  it  appeared  frequently  if  not  yearly, 
and  between  that  date  and  the  present  dav  twenty-four 
lighter  and  thirteen  violent  epidemics  have  marked  its 
visitations.  At  their  own  horrid  caprice  they  came  and 
went.     In  1S21,  a  quarantine  of  some  sort  was  established, 


292  THE   CIIEOLES   OF   LOUISIAXA. 

and  it  was  continued  until  1825  ;  but  it  did  not  keep  out 
tlie  plague,  and  it  was  then  abandoned  for  more  than 
thirty  years.  JJetween  1S37  and  1S43,  iifty-fiye  hundred 
deaths  occurred  from  the  feyer.  In  the  summer  and  fall 
uf  1847,  oyer  twenty-eight  hundred  people  perished  by 
it.  In  the  second  half  of  1848,  eight  hundred  and  seventy- 
two  were  its  yictinis.  It  had  barely  disappeared  when 
cholera  entei-ed  again  and  carried  off  fortj'-one  hundred. 
A  month  after  its  disappearance, — in  August,  1849, — the 
feyer  returned  ;  and  when,  at  the  end  of  Xovember,  it 
had  destroyed  seyen  hundred  and  forty-four  persons,  the 
cholera  once  more  a])peared  ;  and  l)y  the  end  of  1S50  had 
added  eighteen  hundred  and  fifty-one  to  the  long  rolls. 

In  the  very  midst  of  these  visitations,  it  was  the  confi- 
dent conviction  and  constant  assertion  of  the  average  Xew 
Orleans  citizen,  Creole  or  American,  on  his  levee,  in  the 
St.  Charles  rotunda,  at  his  counting-room  desk,  in  the 
colunms  of  his  newspaper,  and  hi  his  family  circle,  that 
his  town  was  one  of  the  healthiest  in  the  world.  The 
fatality  of  the  epidemics  was  principally  among  the  un- 
acclimated.  lie  was  not  insensible  to  their  sufferings,  he 
was  famous  for  his  care  of  the  sick  ;  the  town  was  dotted 
with  orphan  asylums.  But  in  this  far-away  corner  crucial 
cor^^arisons  escaped  him.  The  Creole  did  not  readily 
take  the  fever,  and,  taking  it,  commonly  recovered.  He 
had,  and  largely  retains  still,  an  absurd  belief  in  his  entire 
immunity  from  attack.  When  he  has  it,  it  is  something 
else.     As  for  strangers, — he  threw  up  his  palms  and  eye- 


THE   GKEAT   EPIDEMIC.  :2'.)S 

brows, — nobody  asked  tlieni  t«^  come  to  Xew  C)rleaiis. 
The  mind  of  the  American  turned  only  to  connnerce;' 
and  the  commercial  value  of  a  well-authenticated  low 
death-rate  he  totally  overlooked.  Every  summer  mii:ht 
bring  plague — granted ;  l)ut  winter  brought  trade,  wealth. 
It  thunder  ;d  and  tumbled  through  the  streets  like  a  surf. 
The  part  of  a  good  citizen  seemed  to  l)e  to  shut  his  eyes 
tightly  and  drown  comment  and  debate  with  loud  asser- 
tions of  the  town's  salubrity. 

It  was  in  these  days  that  a  certain  taste  for  Itooks 
showed  itself,  patronized  and  dominated  by  commerce. 
De  Bow's  excellent  monthly  issue,  the  Comi/urclal  Jit- 
vieio  of  the  South  and  West,  was  circulating  its  invalu- 
able statistics  and  its  pro-Southern  deductions  in  social 
and  political  science.  Judah  P.  Benjamin  wrote  about 
sugar ;  so  did  Yalcour-Aime ;  Iliddell  treated  of  Missis- 
sippi Iliver  deposits,  etc. ;  Maunsell  White  gave  reminis- 
cences of  flat-boat  navigation;  Chief  Justice  Martin  Avrote 
on  contract  of  sale;  E.  J.  Forstall  on  Louisiana  historv  in 
French  archives  ;  and  a  great  nian^  anonymous  ''  Ladies 
of  Xew  Orleans  "  and  "  Gentlemen  of  Xew  Orleans  "  and 
elsewhere,  upon  the  absorbing  topic  of  slavery — to  while 
away  the  time,  as  it  were.  "  Xew  Orleans,  disguise  the 
fact  as  we  may,"  wrote  De  Bow  in  1840,  "has  liad  abroad 
the  reputation  of  being  a  great  charnel-house.  . 
AVe  meet  this  libel  with  facts."  But  he  gave  no  figures. 
In  January,  1851,  the  mayor  oflicially  pronounced  the  city 
"  perfectly  healthy  during  the  past  year,"  etc.,  omitting  to 


294 


THE  CllEOLES   OF   LOUISIANA. 


say  that  the  mortal ity  had  been  tlirec  times  as  higli  as  a 
moderate  death-rate  would  have  been.  A  few  medical  men 
alone, — Ijarton,  Sjmonds,  Fenner,  Axson, — had  begun  to 
drag  from  oblivion  the  city's  vital  statistics  and  to  publish 
facts  that  should  have  alarmed  any  connnunity.     But  the 


A  Cemetery  Walk.     (Tombs  and  "  Ovens.") 

blind  are  not  frio-htened  w'itli  ghosts.  Barton  showed  that 
the  mortality  of  184:9,  over  a ?i(l  ahove  the  deaths  by  cholera, 
had  been  about  twice  the  connnon  average  of  Boston,  Xew 
York,  Philadelphia,  or  Charleston.  What  then  ?  Noth- 
ing. He  urged  under-ground  sewerage  in  vain.  Quar- 
antine was  proposed;  connnercc  frowned.     A   plan  was 


THE    riRKAT   EPIDKMIC.  205 

offered  for  diiilv  riur^liiiijj:  tlie  eitv's  iniminerable  open 
street-gutters  ;  it  was  rejected.  Tlie  vice  of  burving  in 
tombs  above  ground  in  the  lieart  of  town  was  shown  ;  l)Ut 
the  burials  went  (tn. 

As  the  vear  lsr).'>  drew  near,  a  climax  of  evil  conditions 
seemed  to  be  approached.  The  city  became  more  dreail- 
fullv  unclean  than  before.  The  scavenninjj:  was  beinu' 
tried  on  a  contract  system,  and  the  "  foul  and  nauseous 
steams"  from  gutters,  alleys,  and  dark  nooks  became  in- 
tolerable. In  the  merchants'  interest  Carondelet  basin 
and  canal  were  being  once  more  dug  out ;  the  New  Canal 
was  being  widened  ;  gas  and  water  mains  were  being  ex- 
tended ;  in  the  Fourth  District,  Jackson  Street  and  St. 
Charles  Avenue  wei-e  being  excavated  for  the  road-beds  of 
their  railways.  In  the  Third  District,  many  small  drain- 
in";  trenches  were  beinn'  dui;. 

On  the  12th  of  March,  the  ship  ^1  }i(/usta  sailed  from 
Bremen  for  ^'ew  Orleans  with  upNvard  of  two  hundred 
emigrants.  Thirteen  days  afterward  the  Xortluiinjdon 
left  Liverpool,  bound  in  the  same  direction,  with  between 
three  and  four  hundred  Irish.  She  had  sickness  on  board 
during  the  voyage,  and  some  deaths.  IlXiq  Atir/usta  had 
none.  While  these  were  on  their  way,  the  bark  Sin',  in  the 
port  of  Rio  de  Janeiro,  lost  her  captain  and  several  of  her 
crew  l)y  yellow  fever,  and  afterward  sailed  for  New  Orleans. 
The  ship  Ccwihoden  Castle  cleared  from  Kingston,  Jamaica, 
for  the  same  port,  leaving  seven  of  her  crew  dead  of  the 
fever.     On  the  0th  of  May,  the  y^o/iham/fton  and  the  Siri 


296  THE   CKEOLES  OF  LOUISIANA. 

arrived  in  the  Mississippi.     The  Northamjjton  was  towed 
to  the  city  alone,  and  on  tlie  10th  was  moored  at  a  wharf  in 
the  Fourth  District,  at  the  Iiead  of  Josephine  Street.    Tlie 
Siri  was  towed  up  in  company  witli  another  vessel,  the 
Saxon.     She  was  dropped  at  a  wharf  in  the  First  District. 
The  Saxon  moved  on  and  rested  some  distance  awav  at 
a  wharf  opposite  the  waterwoi-ks   reservoir,  in  front  of 
Market  Street.     The  Mrthamjyton  was  found  to  be  very 
foul.     Hands  sent  aboard  to  unload  and  clean  her  left  on 
the  next  day,  believing  they  had  detected  "  black  vomit " 
in  her  hospital.     One  of  them  fell  sick  of  yellow  fever 
three  days  after,  but  recovered.     A  second  force  was  em- 
ployed ;  several  became  ill ;  this   was  on  the  17th.     On 
the  same  day,  the  Augusta  and  the  Camhoden  Castle  en- 
tered the  harbor  in  the  same  tow.     The  Carnhoclen  Castle 
was  moored  alongside  the  Saxon.      At  the  next  wharf, 
two  or  three  hundred  feet  below,  lay  abreast  the  magara 
and  the  Harvest  Queen.     The  Augusta  passed  on  up  and 
cast  off  her  tow-lines  only  when  she  was  moored  close  to 
the  Northam^yton.      The  emigrants  went  ashore.     Five 
thousand  landed  in  Xew  Orleans  that  year.     Here,  then, 
was  every  condition  necessary  to  the  outbreak  of  a  pesti- 
lence, whether  indigenous,  impoi-ted,  or  both. 

On  the  same  day  that  the  fever  broke  out  on  Wi^Korth- 
am])ton  it  appeared  also  on  the  Augusta.  About  the 
same  time  it  showed  itself  in  one  or  two  distant  parts  of 
the  city  without  discernible  connection  with  the  shipping. 
On  the  29th,  it  appeared  on  the  Harvest  Queen,  and,  fi^-e 


THE  GlIEAT  EPIDKMIC.  OOr 

dap  later,  on  tl,e  Sa^on.  The  J7«y<„.«  l,aj  p„t  ,,  ,„, . 
but,  on  the  Sth,  the  fever  broke  out  on  her  and  carried  off 
the  captain  and  a  n.nnber  of  the  erew.  Two  fatal  cases 
m  the  town  the  attending  physician  reported  under  a 
disguised  tern,,  "  not  wishing  to  create  alarm."  Such  wa. 
the  inside,  hidden  history  of  the  Great  Epidemic's  hc^in- 

TllTlnr  ^ 


On  the  2Tth  of  May,  one  of  the  en.igrants  from  the 
lTort/uw>pton  was  brought  to  the  charity  hospital      He 
I.ad  been  four  days  ill,  and  he  died  the  next  day,  of  yel- 
low fever.     The  Board  of  Health  made  official  repor't  of 
the  case ;   but   the  daily  papers   omitted   to   publish  it 
Other   reports  followed  in  June;  they  were  shunned  i„ 
the  same  way,  and  the  great  city,  with  its  one  hundred 
and  fifty-four  thousand  people,  one  in  every  ten  of  whom 
was  to  die  that  year,  remained  in  slumberous  ignorance 
of  the  truth.     It  was  one  of  the  fashions.     ()„  the  '>d  of 
July  twenty-five  deaths  frou,  yellow  fever  were  reported 
for  the  closing  week.     Many  "fever  centres"  had  been 
developed.     Three  or  four  of  then,  pointed,  for  their  ori- 
gin, straight  back  to  the  .y„rt/,<»,y,fo«;  one  to  thevl«. 
</usta,  and  one  to  the  Saxon. 

A  season  of  frciuent  heavy  rains,  alternating  with  hot 
suns  and  calms-the  worst  of  conditions-set  in.   At  the 
end   of  the  ne.xt  week,  fifty-nine  deaths  were  reported 
Ihere  had  not  been  less,  certainly,  than  three  hundred  cases 
and  the  newspapers  slowly  and  one  by  one  began  to  ad- 
nut  the  presence  of  danger.     But  the  trutli  was  alreadv 


298  THE  CKKOLES    OF   LOUISIANA. 

gtiessed,  and  alarm  and  dismay  lurked  eveiywliere.  Kot 
in  every  breast,  however;  there  were  still  those  who 
looked  about  with  rather  impatient  surprise,  and— often 
in  Creole  accent,  and  often  not— begged  to  be  told  what 
M-as  the  matter.  The  deaths  around  them,  they  insisted, 
in  print,  were  at  that  moment  "  fewer  in  number  than  in 
any  other  city  of  similar  population  in  the  Union." 

Indeed,  the  fever  was  still  only  prowling  distantly  in 
those  regions  most  shunned  by  decent  feet  and  clean  robes  ; 
about  Eousseau  Street,  and  the  like,  along  the  Fourth 
District  river-front,  where  the  forlorner  German   immi- 
grants boarded  in  damp  and  miry  squalor  ;  in  the  places 
where  snch  little  crowded  living  as  there  was  in  the  town 
was  gathered  ;  Lynch's  How  and  other  blocks  and  courts 
in  the  filthy  Irish  quarters  of  St.  Thomas  and  Tchonpi- 
toulas  streets ;  and  the  foul,  dark  dens  about  the  French 
market  and  the  Mint,  in  the  old  French  quarter;  amono- 
the  Gascon  vacJierles  and  houeheries,  of  repulsive  unclean- 
ness,  on  the  upper  and  rear  borders  of  the  Fourth  Dis- 
trict ;  and  around  Gormley's  Basin— a  small  artificial  har- 
bor at  the  intersection  of  Dryades  Walk  and  Felicity  Road, 
for  the  wood-cutters  and  shingle-makers  of  the  swamp, 
and  "  a  pestilential  mnck-and-mirc  pool  of  dead  animals 
and  filth  of  every  kind."' 

But  suddenly  the  contagion  leaped  into  the  midst  of 
the  people.  In  the  single  week  ending  July  16th,  two 
hundred  and  four  persons  were  carried  to  the  cemeteries. 
A  panic  seized  the  town.     Everywhere  porters  were  toss- 


Tin;  OliKAT  EPIUKMic.  Oi)9 

i"g  tninks  into  wagons,  carriages  rattling  over  tlio  stones 
and  M-liirling  cut  across  tlic  broad  wl.ite  levee  to  the 
steamboats'  sides.  Foot-passengers  «-crc  l.urrvi,,.'  alon.^ 
the  sidewalk,  luggage  and  children  in  hand,  and'oi.t  of 
Wath,  n,a„y  a  one  with  the  ,,lag,.o  already  in  his  pulse. 
Iho  iieenig  crowd  was  numbered  bv  thousands. 

During  the  following  week,  the  "charity  hospital  alone 
recen-ed  from  si.vty  to  one  hm,dre<l  patients  a  ,Iay      Jts 
floors  were  covered  with  the  sick.     Fron.  the  Kith  to  the 
23d,  the  deaths  averaged  sixty-ouo  a  day.     Presentlv,  the 
average  ran  np  toseventyuine.    The  rains  continued;  with 
much  lightning  and  thunder.     The  weather  becan.e  troj.i- 
eal ;  the  sun  was  scorching  hot  arul  the  shade  chill  v     The 
streets  became  lieavy  with  nn„l,  the  air  stifling  with  ba,l 
odors,  and  the  whole  town  a  perfect  Constantinople  for 
loiiliiess. 

August  came  on.  The  week  ending  the  (Jth  showed  one 
Jmndred  and  eighty-seven  deaths  from  oil,,;-  disease,  an 
enormons  death-rate,  to  which  the  fever  added  nine  hun- 
dred and  forty-seven  victin.s.  For  a  week,  the  deaths  in 
the  charity  hospital-whero  the  poor  immigrants  lav-had 
been  one  every  lialf  liour. 

The  next  day  two  hundred  and  twenty-eight  persons 
died.  The  pestilence  had  attacked  the  Creoles  and  the 
blacks.  In  every  direction  were  confusion,  fright,  flight, 
calls  for  aid,  the  good  "Howanls"  hurrying  fron.  doo;  to 
door,  widows  and  orphans  weeping,  till  the  city  was,  as  an 
eye-witnesa  says,  a  "  theatre  of  horrors." 


30O  THE   CREOLES   OF   LOUISIAXA. 

"  Alas,"  cried  one  of  the  city  journals,  "  wc  have  not 
even  grave-diggers  ! "  Five  dollars  an  hour  failed  to  hire 
enough  of  them.  Some  of  the  dead  went  to  the  tomb 
still  with  pomp  and  martial  honors ;  but  the  city  scaven- 
gers, too,  with  their  carts,  went  knocking  from  house  tu 
liouse  asking  if  there  Avere  any  to  be  buried.  Long  rows 
of  coffins  were  laid  in  furrows  scarce  two  feet  deep,  and 
hurriedly  covered  with  a  few  shovelfulls  of  earth,  which 
the  daily  rains  washed  away,  and  the  whole  mass  was 
left,  "filling  the  air  far  and  near  with  the  most  intolerable 
pestilential  odors."  Around  the  grave-yards  funeral  trains 
jostled  and  quarrelled  for  place,  in  an  air  reeking  with 
the  effluvia  of  the  earlier  dead.  Many  "  fell  to  work  and 
buried  their  own  dead."  Many  sick  died  in  carriages  and 
carts.  Many  were  found  dead  in  their  beds,  in  stores,  in 
the  streets.  Vice  and  crime  broke  out  fiercely  :  the  police 
M-ere  never  so  busy.  Heroism,  too,  was  seen  on  everv 
hand.  Hundreds  toiled  for  the  comfort  of  sick  and  dvino-, 
and  hundreds  fell  victims  to  their  own  noble  self-abnega- 
tion.    Forty -five  distant  cities  and  towns  sent  relief. 

On  one  day,  the  11th  of  August,  two  hundred  and  three 
persons  died  of  the  fever.  In  the  week  ending  two  davs 
later,  the  total  deaths  were  fourteen  hundred  and  ninetv- 
four.  Eain  fell  every  day  for  two  months.  Streets  be- 
came so  bad  that  hearses  could  scarcely  reach  the  cem- 
eteries. On  the  20th,  the  week's  mortality  was  fifteen 
hundred  and  thirty -four. 

Despair  now  seemed  the  only  reasonable  frame  of  mind. 


THE  GREAT  EPIDEMIC.  801 

In  tlio  sky  al)Ovc,  every  new  day  bronglit  the  same  merci- 
less conditions  of  atmosphere.     Tlie  earth  l)eIo\v  bnl)blc(l 
Avith  poisonous  gases.      Those  wlio  would  still   have  tied 
the  scene  saw  no  escape.     To  leave  oy  ship  was  to  couit 
the  overtaking  stroke  oi"  the  plague  beyond  the  reach  cf 
medical  aid,  and  probably  to  find  a  grave  in  the  sea;  while 
to  escape  to  inland  towns  was  to  throw  one's  self  into  the 
arms  of  the  pestilence,  carried  there  by  earlier  fugitives. 
The  nundjers  of  the  dead  give  but  an  imperfect  idea  of 
the  wide-spread  suffering  and  anguish.     Tlie  disease  is  re- 
pulsive and  treacherous,  and  requires  the   most  unremit- 
ting and  laborious  attention.     Its  fatal  ending  is  inexpres- 
sibly terrible,  often  attended  witli  raving  madness.  Amojig 
the  Creoles  of  the  old  French  quarter,  a  smaller  proportion 
than  one  in  each  eleven  suffered  attack.    But  in  the  Fourth 
District,  where  the  nnacclimated  were   most  numerous, 
there  were  whole  wards  where  more  than  half  the  pojiula- 
tion  had  to  take  their  chances  of  life  and  death  from  the 
dreadful  contagion.     In  the  little  town  of  Algiers,  just 
opposite  the  city,  a  thirty-sixth  of  all  its  people  died  in 
one  week. 

On  the  22d  day  of  August,  the  climax  was  at  last 
reached.  Death  struck  that  day,  from  midnight  to  mid- 
night, a  fresh  victim  every  live  minutes,  and  two  hundred 
and  eighty-three  deaths  summed  up  an  official  record  that 
was  confessedly  incomplete.  The  next  day,  there  were 
twenty-five  less.  The  next,  thirty-six  less  than  this. 
Each  day  was  better  than  the  preceding.     The  crisis  liad 


302  THE   (IIKOLES    OF   LOUISTAXA. 

passed.     Hope  rose  into  rejoicing.     The  1st  of  September 
showed  but  one  hundred  and  nineteen  deatlis,  and   the 
10th  but  eighty.     ]S'orth  winds  and  cool,  dry  weatlier  set 
in.     On  the  20th,  there  were  but  forty-nine  deaths  ;  on 
the  30tli,  only  sixteen.    In  some  of  the  inland  towns  it  was 
still  raging,  and  so  continued  until  the  middle  of  October. 
In  the  cemeteries  of  2s'ew  Orleans,  between  the  1st  of 
June  and  the  1st  of  October,  nearly  eleven  thousand  per- 
sons were   buried.     To   these  nmst  be  added  the  many 
buried  without  certificate,  the  liundreds  who  perished  in 
tlieir  flight,  and  the  multitudes  who  fell  in  the  towns  to 
which  the  pestilence  was  carried.     It  lingered  throucdi 
autumn,  and  disappeared  only  in  December.     Duriiiir  the 
year  1853  nearly  thirty  thousand  residents  of  Xew  Orleans 
were  ill  of  the  yellow  fever,  and  there  died,  from  all  causes, 
nearly  sixteen  thousand. 

In  the  next  two  summers,  1854  and  '55,  the  fever  re- 
turned and  destroyed  more  than  five  thousand  persons. 
Cholera  added  seventeen  hundred  and  fifty.  Tlie  two 
years'  death-rates  were  seventy-two  and  seventy-three  per 
thousand.  That  of  1853  was  one  hundred  and  eleven. 
In  three  years,  thirty-seven  thousand  people  had  died,  and 
wherever,  by  ordinary  rate  of  mortality,  there  should  have 
been  one  grave  or  sepulchre,  there  were  four.  One  can 
but  draw  a  sigh  of  relief  in  the  assurance  that  this  is  a 
liistory  of  the  past,  not  the  present,  and  that  new  condi- 
tions have  made  it  next  to  impossible  that  it  should  ever 
be  repeated  in  the  future. 


■■■-^^m- 


r--T-fcao«*<'-!^*"^'**'* " 


i!j^>»i-  crr««ic\ 


-'V:.l' 


XXXIX. 


BRIGHTER   f'KIES. 


"  /^^^T  of  this  nettle,  danger,"  savs  tlic  great  bard,  "we 
pluck  this  flower,  safety."  The  dreadful  scourge 
of  1853  roused  the  people  of  Xew  Orleans,  for  the  first 
time,  to  the  necessity  of  knowing  the  proven  truth  con- 
cerning themselves  and  the  city  in  which  they  dwelt. 

In  the  midst  of  the  ej^idemic,  the  city  council  had  ad- 
journed, and  a  number  of  its  members  had  fled.  But,  in 
response  to  popular  demand,  a  board  of  health  had  ap- 
pointed the  foremost  advocates  of  quarantine  and  muni- 
cipal cleansing  a  commission  to  study  and  report  the  mel- 


I^<l4  Tin:   (  KKOLKS   OF   LOriSIAXA. 

aiK'holy  lessons  of  the  i»lagiic.  It  Liboi'cd  arduously  for 
many  months.  At  its  head  was  that  mayor  of  >*e\v  Or- 
leans, Grossman  l>y  name,  whose  fame  for  wise  and  pro- 
tracted rule  is  still  a  pleasant  tradition  of  the  city,  and 
whose  characteristic  i)hrase — '•  a  great  deal  to  be  said  on 
both  sides  '' — remains  the  most  frequent  quotation  on  the 
lips  of  the  connnon  i)eople  to-day.  Doctors  I»arton,  Ax- 
son,  McNeil,  Symonds,  and  lliddell, — men  at  the  head  of 
the  medical  profession, — completed  the  body.  They  were 
bold  and  faithful,  and  they  effected  a  revolution. 

The  thinking  and  unbiased  few,  who  in  all  communities 
nnist  first  receive  and  fructify  the  germ  of  truth,  were 
convinced.  The  technical  question  of  the  fever's  conta- 
giousness remained  unsettled  ;  but  its  transportability  was 
fearfully  proven  in  a  multitude  of  interior  towns,  and  its 
alacrity  in  seeking  foul  quarters  and  its  malignancy  there 
were  plainly  shown  by  its  history  in  the  city.  The  commis- 
sion pronounced  in  favor  of  r^uarantine,  and  it  was  perma- 
nently established,  and  has  ever  since  become,  annually, 
more  and  more  effective.  They  earnestly  recommended, 
also,  the  purging  of  the  city,  and  keeping  it  purged,  by 
proper  drainage  and  sewerage,  of  all  those  foul  conditions 
that  were  daily  poisoning  its  earth  and  air.  Tlie  response 
to  this  was  extremely  feeble. 

It  would  seem  as  if  the  commercial  value  both  of  (quar- 
antine and  cleanliness  might  have  been  seen  bv  the  mer- 
chant,  since  the  aggregate  value  of  exports,  imports,  and 
domestic  receipts  fell  off  twenty-two  and  a  half  millions, 


IJUIOIITER  SKIES?.  Ij,,,-; 

and  did  not  entirely  recover  for  three  years.  Ijut  it  waa 
not.  TJie  niereliants,  both  Creole  and  An.eriean,  saw  only 
the  momentary  inconveniences  and  looses  of  qnarantino 
and  its  defective  beginnings;  the  daily  press,  in  bonda.^o 
to  the  merchant  througli  its  advertising  colunms,  carped 
and  cavilled  in  two  languages  at  the  innovation  and  ex- 
panded on  the  filthiness  of  other  cities,  while  the  general 
public  thought  what  they  read. 

Yet,  in  the  face  of  all  set-backs,  the  city  that  once  was 
almost  annually  scourged,  has,  in  the  twentv-seven  years 
since  the  Great  Epidemic,  wliieh  virtually  lasted  till  1855 
suffered   but  one  mild  and  three  severe  epidemics.     In' 
1S78,  occurred  the  last  of  these,  and  the  only  severe  one 
m  fourteen  years.     Its  fatality  was  but  little  over  lialf  as 
great  as  that  of  tlie  Great  Epidemic.     In  the  five  years 
ending  with  1855,  the  average  annual  mortality  had  U^en 
seventy.     In  the  next  five,  it  fell  to  forty-five.     In  the 
five  of  the  secession  and  war  period,  it  was  forty.     In  the 
next,  it  was  thirty-nine;  in  the  next,  it  sank  to  thirty-four 
and  a  half;  in  that  which  closed  in  1880,  notwithstand- 
ing the  terrible  epidemic  of  1878,  the  rate  was  but  thirty- 
three  and  a  half,  and  in  the  five  years  since  that  affliction 
It  was  under  twenty-seven. 

Tlie  popular  idea  that  a  sudden  revolution  in  the  sani- 
tary affairs  of  the  Creole  city  was  effected  by  General  B  F 
Butler  in  1SC2  is  erroneous.    It  has  just  been  shown  that 
the  city's  health  had  already  been  greatly  improved  before 
the  Civil  War  set  in.    AVhen  General  Butler  assumed 


306  THE  CIJEOLES   OF   LOUISIAK^A. 

control  of  its  affairs  tliere  liad  been  no  epidemic  of  yellow 
fever  for  four  years.  The  year  of  his  domination  was 
actually  less  liealthy  than  the  year  before,  its  death-rate 
being  thirty-^ix,  against  thirty-four  for  ISOl.  In  the  sec- 
ond summer  of  Federal  occiij^ation  the  rate  was  an  entire 
tliird  larger  than  in  the  sunnner  before  the  city  fell.  Xo 
five  years  since  the  close  of  the  war,  dividing  the  time  off 
in  regular  periods  of  that  length,  has  failed  thus  far  to 
show  a  better  mortality-rate  than  that  live  which  ended 
with  1865  ;  and  in  ten  of  the  eighteen  years  immediately 
following  that  of  Butler's  notorious  rule,  the  mortality  has 
been  lighter  than  it  was  that  year.  The  mortality  of  1ST9 
was  under  twenty-four,  and  that  of  18S0,  twenty-six  per 
thousand. 

The  events  of  1878  are  fresh  in  the  public  mind.  In 
Kew  Orleans  they  overwhelmed  the  people  at  large  with 
the  convictions  which  1853  had  impressed  upon  the  more 
thoughtful  few.  To  the  merchant,  "shot-gun  quarantines" 
throughout  the  Southern  Mississippi  Valley  explained 
themselves.  The  commercial  necessity  of  quarantine  and 
sanitation  was  established  without  a  single  scientific  light, 
and  measures  were  taken  in  hand  for  perfecting  both — 
measures  which  are  growing  and  bearing  fruit  day  by  day. 
They  have  already  reduced  the  insalubrity  of  Xew  Or- 
leans to  a  point  where  it  may  be  compared,  though  timidly, 
with  that  of  other  great  cities,  and  promise  before  long  to 
make  the  city,  really  and  emphatically,  the  home  of  health, 
comfort,  and  safety. 


liltlGIITER   SKIES.  307 

In  tlie  study  of  liis  expanded  city,  we  have  wandered 
from  tlie  contemplation  of  tlie  Creole  liimself .     It  remains 
to  be  said  that,  nnquestionably,  as  his  town  lias  expanded 
and  improved,  so  has  he.     As  the  improvements  of  the 
age  draw  the  great  world  nearer  and  nearer  to  him,  he 
becomes  more  and  more  open  to  cosmopolitan  feeling. 
The  hostility  to  Americans,  as  such,  is  little  felt.     The 
French  tongue  is  falling  into  comparative  disuse,  even  in 
the  family  circle.     The  local  boundaries  are  overstepped. 
He  lives  above  Canal  Street  now  without  feeling  exiled. 
The  social  circles  blend  into  each  other.     Sometimes,  with 
the  old  Gallic  intrepidity  of  conviction,  lie  moves  ahead 
of  the  American  in  progressive  thought. 

In  these  matters  of  sanitary  reform,  he  lias  his  share- 
or  part  of  it.     The  old  feeling  of  castellated  immunity  in 
his  own  high-fenced  home  often  resents,  in  sentiment  at 
least,  official  house-to-house  inspection  and  the  disturbance 
of  a  state  of  aifain  under  which  his  father  and  grandfather 
reached  a  good  old  age  and  left  no  end  of  children.     Yet 
the  movement  in  general  has  his  assent ;    sometimes  his 
co-operation  ;  sometimes  his  subscription ;  and  his  doctors 
take  part  in  debates  and  experiments.     He  is  in  favor  of 
all  this  healthful  flushing  ;  this  deepening  and  curbing  o' 
canals ;  this  gratuitous  and  universal  distribution  of  cop- 
peras, etc.     Against  one  feature  only  he  wages  open  war. 
He  laughs,  but  he  is  in  earnest ;  copperas,  he  tolerates ; 
lime,  the  same ;    all  odorless  disinfectants,  indeed ;    but 
carbolic  acid-no  !     In  Gallic  fierceness,  he  hurls  a  nick- 


308  THE  CREOLES   OF   LOUISIANA. 

name  at  it — ^'■acide  dlaholiqueP  When  he  smells  it,  he 
loads  his  gun  and  points  it  through  his  shutters.  You 
shall  never  sprinkle  him  with  that  stuff — never !  And 
who  knows  but  he  is  nearest  to  the  right  ? 

On  his  sugar  plantations,  in  the  parishes  named  for  the 
saints,  he  has  grown  broad  and  robust — a  strong,  manly 
figure  in  neat,  spurred  boots,  a  refined  blood  flushing 
through  his  bronzed  but  delicate  skin,  making  him  at 
tim^s  even  florid.  He  is  not  so  mortu-asred  as  he  used  to 
be.  Yankee  neighbors  have  dropped  in  all  about  him 
lately,  as  they  did  in  earlier  days  about  his  city  cousins  ; 
some  from  the  eastern,  some  from  the  western  Xorth — he 
calls  them  all  by  one  generic  term.  But  he  likes  them. 
They  are  preferable  to  "  Cadians  " — much.  They  stimu- 
late him.  He  is  not  so  wedded  to  "  open  kettle  "  sugars 
as  he  once  was.  He  is  putting  "  vacuum  pans  "  into  his 
sugar-house— nay,  did  not  the  Creole,  Valcour-Aime,  in- 
troduce the  vacuum  pan  into  Louisiana  ? — and  studies  chem- 
istry till  he  beats  his  breast  in  the  wholeness  of  his  atten- 
tion. Yet  he  is  full,  too,  of  the  questions  of  the  day.  The 
candor  with  which  he  grasps  the  new  turn  of  affairs  re- 
sulting from  the  Civil  War  is  worthy  of  imitation  by 
many  an  Anglo-American  Southern  community.  He  is  apt 
to  say  he  never  did  believe  heartily  in  African  slavery  and 
now  he  knows  it  was  a  sad  mistake.  The  cruel  senti- 
ments of  caste  that  sprang  from  it  still  survive,  but  they 
burn  with  no  fierceness.  They  cannot  easily  perish,  for 
they  have  been  handed  down  through  generations.     They 


IJUIGHTKR   SKIES. 


309 


are  like  those  old  bronze  Aigands,  once  so  highly  prized, 
still  standing,  rayles.<,  on  his  in.intelj)iece ;  lamps  without 
oil.  You  nuiy  still  see  Congo  ISi^uare,  where  the  slave 
once  danced  his  savage  African  songs  in  tattered  half- 


The  Old  Calabnza, 


nakedness  on  8al)bath  afternoons;  l)nt  the  thunder  of 
African  drums  rumbles  there  no  more,  and  the  Creole  and 
the  freedman  are  alike  well  ])loas(Hl  that  "the  jig  is  up." 
The  Calaboza  remains,  but  the  irons  that  once  burnt  the 
flower-de-luce  into  the  recaptured  runaway's  shoulder,  and 


310  THE  CREOLES   OF  LOUISIANA. 

the  four  whipping-posts  to  whicli  tlie   recalcitrant  slave 
was  once  made  fast  by  liands  and  feet,  are  gone,  and  the 
Creole  is  glad  of  it.     He  is  willing  to  be  just  to  his  former 
bondservant,  now  fellow-citizen,  and  where  he  holds  the 
old  unjust  attitudes  does  so  with  little  consciousness.     The 
old  Gallic  intrepidity  of  thought  conies  to  his  aid,  and  is 
helping  him  out  of  the  fiercely  extreme  conservatism  en- 
gendered by  an  institution  that  could  not  afford  to  enter- 
tain suggestions  of  change.     There  is  no  other  part  of 
Louisiana  where  the  slave  has  made  so  much  progress,  as  a 
mass,  toward  the  full  possession  of  freedom  as  he  has  in  the 
"  sugar  parishes."    The  colored  man's  history  in  the  land  of 
the  Creoles  we  cannot  write  here.  It  M-ould  throw  light  upon 

our  theme,  but some  other  time.    It  is  a  theme  by  itself, 

too  large  to  be  hung  up  n  this.  Later,  the  Creole  himself 
will  be  more  prepared  for  it.  Meantime  he  quotes  the 
Xew  York  papei-s,  and  tells  you  frankly  that  he  only  wishes 
lie  could  be  rid  of  Xorth  Louisiana— where  the  "Ameri- 
can •'  planter  reigns  supreme— it  is  so  behind  the  times. 

AVheii  he  is  not  so  he  is  very  different.  In  such  case  he 
bows  his  head  to  fate.  His  fences  are  broken  ;  his  levee 
is  dangerous ;  the  plastering  is  falling  in  his  parlor ;  his 
garden  has  become  a  wild,  damp  grove,  M'eed-grown  and 
untrodden  ;  his  sugar  is  dark,  his  thin  linen  coat  is  home- 
made ;  he  has  transferred  his  hopes  to  rice  and  made  his 
home  sickly  with  irrigation  ;  he  doesn't  care  who  you  are, 
and  will  not  sell  a  foot  of  his  land— no,  not  for  price  that 
man  can  name  !— till  the  red  flag  hangs  out  for  him  on 


An  Inner  Court — Royal  Street. 


BKIGIITER  SKIES.  3I3 

the  courthouse  square  and  tlie  man  with  one  drumstick 
drums  him  out  of  liouse  and  liome. 

In  Xew  Orleans,  sad  shrinkages  in  the  vahie  of  down- 
town  property  have  phiyed  havoc  with  the  old   Creole 
rentier.    Court  officers  and  lawyers  are  full  of  after-dinner 
stories  illustrating  the  pathetic  romance  of  his  fate.     He 
keeps  at  home,  on  the  front  veranda.    His  wife  and  daugh- 
ter take  in  sewing  and  make  orange  marmalade  and'tig 
preserves  on  small  private  contracts.     His  son  is  a  lounger 
in  the  court-rooms.    The  young  man  buttons  his  worn  coat 
tightly  about  his  small  waist,  walks  with  a  brisk  affectation 
of  being  pressed  for  time,  stops  you  silently  in  lloyal  Street 
or  Pere  Antoine's  Alley,  on  the  stairway  of  the  old  Cabildo, 
to  light  his  cigarette  from  your  cigar-symbolic  action,  al- 
ways lighting  Iiis  cigarette  from  somebody's  cigar— gives 
you  a  silent,  call-it-square  sort  of  bow  as  full  of  grace^'as  a 
Bourbon  prince's,  and  hurries  on,  hoping  soon  to  becoml 
fifth  assistant  to  some  deputy  sherife  or  pnblic  surveyor, 
or,  if  he  have  influential  relatives,  runner  for  a  bank.     He 
"  plays  the  lottery,"  that  curse  of  his  town. 

"  Well,  of  co'se,"  he  says,  blowing  the  tobacco  smoke 
through  his  nose,  "  thaz  the  way  with  evveybody,  those 
time'-sinz  ladely."  Eeally  he  would  ask  you  around  to 
"The  Gem,"  but-his  poor,  flat  pocket !  nothing  in  it  but 
his  "  memo'andum  book,"  and  not  even  a  "memo'andum  " 
in  that. 

^  But  he  has  kinsmen,  in  goodly  number,  who  blush  for 
him;  he  will  tell  you  so  with  a  strange  n   xture  of  pride 


314 


THE   CREOLES   OF   LOUISIANA. 


and  humility ;  and  who  are  an  lionor  and  a  comfort  to  their 
beloved  city.  They  sit  on  the  most  important  committees 
in  the  great  Cotton  Plxchange,  and  in  the  Produce  Ex- 


» . 


Old  Spanish  Gateway  and  Stair  In  the  Cabildo. 


\    ' 


change,  and  in  reform  movements.  They  are  cashiers 
and  vice-presidents  and  presidents  of  street  railway  com- 
panies, of  insurance  companies,  of  banks.  They  stand  in 
the  front  ranks  at  the  bar.    They  gain  fame  and  rever- 


niilOIITEP.   SKIKS.  ;jj- 

enco  c,u  the  bench.     They  have  held  every  oflVe  ,vi,hi„ 
t he  i^ift  of  the  State.     And  they  have  boo,,  j;,.eat  bey,„„l 
tho.r  ow„  bo„„,hu-ios-o„t  i„  the  j,.,eat  «o,-ld.     A  l.„„W 
a,.a  Creole  was  o„ce,  for  a  short  ti„,e,  JIi„ister  of  War  i„ 
Fra„oo,  „„der  the  l)ireoto,-y.     Another  sat  i„  tl,o  Spanish 
Cortes.     A„otl,or  beea.ne  a  Spanish  J.iontona„t.(io„o,-al 
Another  was  a  general  of  pat,-iot  fo.-ces  when  the  Sonth' 
A,uer,can  provinces  tlu-ew  oif  tl,c  yoke  of  Spain.     ,Tc„, 
Jacqnes  Audnbou  was  a  Creole  of  Lonisiana.    I.o„is  (fotts- 
ehalk  was   a  Xew  Orleans  C-eolo.     <ione.-al  J!..a„rega,d 
IS  a  Creole  of  an  old  Creole  line. 

They  are  «o<  "dying  ont."  Why  sho,dd  thev  ?  -Jfe/e 
clnnade  sood  den,"  better  than  it  s,n-ts  any  aliJn  who  has 
ever  tnod  the  d.wsy  snperabnndance  of  its  snnnnor  snn. 
light,  and  they  a,-e  becoming  ever  n.o,-e  and  n.ore  worthv 
to  survive.  Their  pride  g,.ows  less  fie,-ce,  their  eonrage  is 
no  weaker  for  it,  their  cou,.tesy  is  n.ore  co.-dial,  they  a,« 
more  willing  to  nnderstand  and  be  understood,  and  their 
tastes  for  ,noi-al  and  intellectual  refinen,onts  are  g,-owin<. 

Even  in  their  headlong  gayeties-the  spectacular  pa- 
geants of  the  ca..nival-they  have  stricken  hands  with  the 
Amencan,    bo.-,-owed  his  la,-genessof  pretension  and  the 
barbanc  amb.t.on  of  the  South's  retarded  artistic  i,np„lse. 
The  unorganised  rout  of  masks  peculiar  to  the  old  Latin 
c.t.es  Las  been  turned  into  gorgeous,  not  to  sav  gaudy 
t  bleaux  drawn  through  the  streets  under  the  gLe 
blazing  petroleum  and  frequent  lime-lights,  on  tinselled 
ears,  by  draped  teams,  to  the  blare  of  brass  music  and  the 


316  THE   CKEOLES   OF   LOUISIANA. 

roar  of  popular  acclamation,  in  representation  of  one  or 
another  of   the  world's  great  myths,  epics,  or  episodes. 
Many  thousands  of  people  are  drawn  from  contiguous  or 
distant  parts,  M'ith  the  api^roach  of  each  Mardi-gras,  to  see 
—may  the  good  town   forgive  the  term— tliese  stridin-- 
puerilities.     Some  come  to  gaze  in  wonder  on  these  mira- 
cles in  p((j)lcr-?nac/ie  and  plaster-of-Paris,  and  some,  it  is 
feared,  to  smile  behind  their  hats   at  make-believe  art, 
frivolous  taste,  and  short-sighted  outlay.     The  expenditure 
of   time,  money,  and  labor  on   these   affairs   is   great- 
worthy  of  more  lasting  achievements.     One  Carnival  day 
and  night  some  years  ago  the  crowds  were  more  enormous 
than  ever,  the  displays  were  gorgeous,  the  whole  city  was 
one  wide  revel.     All  through  the  hours  of  a  glorious  day 
the  long,  dazzling  procession  passed  with  their  jewelled  king 
sparkling  in  their  midst,  in  street-full  after  street-full  of 
multitudes  that  made  the  warm  air  quiver  with  acclama- 
tions.    Xight  fell,  and  Comus  and  his  Krewe  came  forth 
in  a  blaze  of  torches  and  made  everything  seem  tame  that 
had  gone  before  ;  and  when  at  midnight,  with  the  tinkle  of 
a  little  bell,  all  disappeared,  the  people  said  that  there  had 
never  been  such  a  carnival.     But  when  the  sun  rose  again 
they  prayed  there  might  never  be  just  such  another.  For  on 
his  neglected  conch,  sought  too  tardily,  the  victim  of  over- 
fatigue, the  royal  Comus,  lay  dead.     The  "American," 
as  well  as  the  Creole,  owns  an  undivided  half  of  this  folly, 
and  the  Creole,  as  well  as  the  "  American,"  is  bejrinnins- 
to  deprecate  it.    Already  better  aspirations  are  distinctly 


BKIGIITEU  SKIKjS.  3^7 

Shown,  and  tlie  city's  efforts  are  reaching  forth  in  n.any 
dn-ections  to  adorn  lierself  with  attractions  that  do  net 
vanish  at  cockcrow,  but,  inviting  the  stranger  to  become  a 
visitor,  also  tempt  him  to  remain,  a  resident. 

^Vo  have  said  that  the  air  which  the  Creole  breathes 
with  unvarying  satisfaction  and  exhales  in  praises  of  its 
superior  merits  is  never  very  hot  or  very  cold,  by  the  mer- 
cury.    Even  in  July  and  August  the  column  lingers,  for 
the  most  part,  under  95°,  and  in  mid-winter  seldom  sinks 
more  than  four  or  five  degrees  below  the  freezing-point 
But  since  it  is  the  evaporation  from   the  surrounding 
swamps,  marshes,  and  other  shallow  waters  that  makes  this 
moderation,  the  effects  upon  the  person  are  those  of  de- 
cidedly greater  extremes  of  lieat  and  cold.    Yet  the  long  and 
dazzlingly  beautiful  summers  are  generally  salubrious,  and 
It  would  be  difficult  to  exaggerate  the  charms  of  the  exu- 
berant spring  which  sets  in  before  January  is  gone,  and 
rises  gently  in  fervor  until  May  ushers  in  the  summer. 
As  to  the  summer,  it  goes,  unwillingly,  in  November. 

Its  languid  airs  have  induced  in  the  Creole's  speech 
great  softness  of  utterance.  The  relaxed  energies  of  a 
luxurious  climate  find  publication,  as  it  were,  when  lie 
turns  final  k  into  ^,.  changes  th,  and  t  when  not  initial,  to 
^/;  filial^,  to  b,  drops  initial  A,  final  le,  and  t  after  yl^; 
often,  also,  the  final  d  of  past  tenses ;  omits  or  distorts  his 
n  and  makes  a  languorous  z  of  all  «'s  and  soft  o's  except 
initials.  On  the  other  hand,  the  old  Gallic  alertness  and 
wire-edge  still  asserts  itself  in  the  confusing  and  inter- 


318  THE  CREOLES   OF  LOUISIAXA. 

changing  of  long  c  and  sliort  ^--sheep  for  sliip,  and  ship 
for  sheep— in  the  flattening  of  long  ?,  as  if  it  were  coming 
through  cane-crushers,  in  the  prolonging  of  long  a,  the 
intrusion  of  uncalled-for  initial  A's,  and  the  shortenhig  and 
narrowing  of  nearly  all  long  and  broad  vowels. 

The  African  slave  in  Louisiana — or,  it  may  be  more 
correct  to  say,  in   St.  Domingo,  before  coming  to  Louisi- 
ana—corrupted   the   French  tongue  as  gi-ossly,  or  even 
more  so,  than  he  did  the  English  in  the  rice  plantations  of 
South  Carolina.     Ko  knowledge  of  scholarly  French  is  a 
guarantee  that  the  stranger  will  understand  the  "  Creole  " 
negro's  gomlo.     To  the  Creole  sang  pur  this  dialect  is  an 
inexhaustible  fountain  of  amusement.     Li  the  rural  par- 
ishes the  harsh  archaisms  of  the  Acadian  perform  the 
same  office  and  divide  the  Creole's  attention.     But  in  "  the 
City"  they  Acadian  dialect  is  hardl  known,  and  for  a  cen- 
tury or  more  the  melodious  drollery  and  grotesqueness  of 
the  i\egvo2yatois  has  made  it  the  favorite  vehicle  of  humor- 
ous song  and  satirical  prose  and  verse.' 

'  In  Le  Carillon,  "  Journal  Hebdomadaire,  organe  des  populations 
Franco-Louisianaises,  Bureaux,  125  Rue  Royale,"  appeared  in  1874  a 
series  of  witty  political  lampoons,  from  one  of  which  u  few  lines  mav  be 
drawn  by  way  of  illustration. 

Miche  Carillon, 
Y  a  queques  jours  mo  te  ape  fouille  mo  champ  pistaclies,  et  vous  va 
connin,  y  a  rien  comme  fouille  pistaches  pour  gagnin  zidees.  Et  jour- 
la  mo  te  plein  zidees.  Mo  te  lire  bo  matin  la  que  nous  te  ap6  couri 
gagnin  eine  nouvelle  Election,  et  mo  coeur  te  batte  si  fort  d  nouvelle-E 
que  mo  te  bo  Man  Cribiohe  quatre  fois  et  Man  Magritte  trois  fois,  en 


BIIIGIITER  SKIES.  319 

It  would  make  a  long  chapter  to  untangle  its  confused 
•  mass  of  abbreviations,  suppressions  of  inflections,  liaaons, 
iiazalizations,  omissions,  inversions,  startling  redundancies, 
and  original  idioms.  The  Creole  does  not  tolerate  its  use 
in  polite  conversation,  and  he  is  probably  seldom  aware 
that  his  English  sparkles  and  crackles  with  the  same 
pretty  corruptions.  For  example,  or  as  the  Creole  himself 
would  say,  "  faw  egzamp,"  let  us  take  the  liberty  of  in- 
venting  a  sentence  and  setting  it  in  his  lips  : 

"  I  am  going  to  do  my  utmost  to  take  my  uncle  there, 
but  he  is  slightly  paralyzed  and  I  do  not  think  he  will  feel 

like  going." He  would  sav— 

"  I  goin'  do  my  possib'  fedge  ma  hunc'  yond',  bud, 
'owevva,  Vs  a  lit'  bit  pa'a^y^-^  an'  I  thing  'e  don'  goin'  till 
ll(jueP 

Examples  need  not  be  multiplied.  One  innocent  asser- 
tion that  found  its  way  to  a  page  of  the  present  writer's 
scanty  notes  from  the  lips  of  a  Creole  country  physician 
will  stand  for  a  hundred.  The  doctor,  like  many  of  his 
race,  would  have  known  at  once  that  the  foregoing  illustra- 
tion was  bad  English  ;  but  he  is  not  aware,  to  this  dav, 
that  therejvasjmyinaccuracy  in  his  own  simple  assertion  : 

m'ecriant:     "  Olx !  mes  femm^7rme76p^;;ses7^^va  zetesl^t 
petl'te  Lietnantes-Gouverneuses. " 

******** 
Jour-la,  y6  t6  oul6  fait  saute  Mechanic's  av  >c  tous  so  mecaniques,  ye  te 
pas  capabe  connin  of.  Antouene  te  passe,  ye  trouve  li.  lendemaiu  matin, 
h  te  attache  apres  so  maillet  et  li  te  ap6  dit :   "  O  reine  Voudoux,  sauvez 
le  Lietnaut-Gouvernair, — "  etc. 


320 


THE  CIIKOLES   OF  LOUISIANA. 


"  I've  juz  been  pulling  some  teeth  to  your  neighbor." 
There  are  reasons— who  can  deny  it  ?— why  we  should 
be  glad  that  the  selioohnaster  is  abjoad  in  Louisiana, 
teaching  English.  JJut  the  danger  is,  that  somewhere  iii 
the  future  lurks  a  day  when  the  Creole  will  leave  these 
loveable  drolleries  behind  him,  and  speak  our  tongue  with 
the  same  dull  correctness  with  which  it  is  delivered  in  tlie 
Ihitish  House  of  Lords.  May  he  live  long,  and  that  time 
be  very,  very  far  away  ! 


THE   END. 


